#i really love m bison

[tekkenenjoyerblue]

More manga M. Bison because I have to share or I’ll explode

I am so happy to have this manga it’s crazy

[thetriumphantpanda]

she a bad lil bitch, she a rebel | joel miller

Summary | Joel has to teach you a damn lesson, just like always.

Pairing | Brat Tamer!Joel x F!Reader

Word Count | 4K

Warnings | brat tamer!Joel, softdom!Joel, praise kink, implied age gap, spanking, use of rope restraints, hair-pulling, edging, orgasm denial, squirting, (1) singular pussy slap, unprotected PiV sex, rough sex, oral sex (M&F receiving), face-fucking, fingering, dirty talk, breath play, biting, cum play/cum eating, reader is a bratty menace, aftercare(!), no use of y/n.

Authors Note | All I'm going to say is this came to me in a dream and I had to get it down on paper. Mostly written on my phone with very little proofreading, so any mistakes are my own and I will live and die by them. This is basically just pure filth. Enjoy, and happy birthday to that old man. I love him but I would give him the hardest time, just like reader.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

If there was one thing that you lived for, it was pushing Joel Miller’s patience. The poor man had wandered into Jackson, little girl in tow, looking worn and weary almost a year ago, and from the moment you set eyes on him, you just knew you had to give this old man a run for his money. 

You’d started subtle, flirting with him on patrol, taking his distaste at your attempt to talk to him at every second as a personal challenge to break him, to work him down just enough to make your move. After a couple of weeks, he’s started talking, mainly in single word answers, but you’d managed to slowly chip him down. 

Then came the weekly drinks at The Tipsy Bison, everyone on patrol usually went, apart from those scheduled to be out that day, but he’d started laughing at your jokes and had even opted to sit next to you on occasion. Then one night, he’d walked you home, you’d had one too many glasses of whiskey, kissed him on the porch but agreed it wasn’t right to fuck right then, but he’d come back, that next night, both of you sober, and you’d kissed him again, and the rest really was history. 

It’s late afternoon when he comes through his front door, toeing his boots off as the door slams behind him. You’ve been led on his couch for most of the afternoon, reading a book you’d plucked from his shelf – some nonsense Western that did nothing to keep your attention, but was enough to keep you occupied whilst you waited for him to come home. 

“Afternoon,” You sing to him as he shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on the coat stand near the door, “Good patrol?” 

“Was fine,” He grumbles, just like he always does, he swats at your legs to get you to move them enough for him to sit down, “Scoot,” You lift them up just long enough for him to ease himself onto the couch, before you put them back down on his lap, abandoning the book on the coffee table, “You sort the stuff in the kitchen like I asked?” 

“No.” You say simply, shaking your head, subtly digging the heel of your foot into the front of his jeans. 

His big palm circles your ankle, gripping in warning, “What about the sheets, you wash ‘em?”

“Did you see them pegged out when you came home?” You ask, sweetly, using your other foot now to dig into his jeans. 

“Will you fuckin’ quit it?” He seethes a little, other hand gripping your other ankle to still you, “What have you done all day, huh?” He implores, “I don’t keep ya around to lounge about lookin’ pretty.” 

You chuckle, “That’s exactly why you keep me around, old man.” 

“Shut up,” He squeezes at your ankles, “I asked you a question, you gonna answer me?” 

You shrug, “Woke up late,” You hold up one finger, “Felt horny so I got myself off,” Another finger, “Had a shower, used the last of that nice soap,” Another finger, “Made lunch,” Another finger, “And then led here reading one of your stupid books until you came home.” A final finger raised so you’re holding up and entire hand, palm facing towards him. 

You’re looking at him, all scowling face and dark eyes as his fingers wrap even tighter around your ankles. If you didn’t know him like you did, you’d be frightened, but you know he’s just thinking about the best way to deal with you. You wonder which of his lessons he’s going to bring out today as the look he’s giving you shoots straight down to your core. 

“I ask you to do two things,” He sighs, like he’s tired, “I ain’t exactly expectin’ slave labour from you, and you sit here and treat it like the Hilton?” 

“What’s the Hilton?” You ask, genuinely curious, thinking it must have been something from the times before all this, the times you were too young to remember. 

“Forget it.” He growls, and you think any minute now he’s gonna move to drag you off and show you just how bad you’ve been, but he doesn’t move, just sits with your ankles clasped in his hands, staring at the wall in front of him. 

“I’ve been so bad Joel,” You goad, trying to wriggle your ankles free, “Aren’t you going to teach me a lesson?” 

“No,” He spits, “I ain’t, because you like it too damn much, ain’t teachin’ you anythin’ because you never learn.” 

You pout a little, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Promise to listen real hard this time Joel,” You promise, “Try and learn and much as possible.” 

“No,” He speaks, stern tone, with a warning squeeze to your ankles again, “Been a long day, don’t have the energy to bring you into line.” 

“Ah, I see,” You muse, “You’re feeling too old today.” 

“What did you just say t’me?” He’s incredulous now, good, you’ve got him just where you want him. 

“Oh, nothing,” You giggle, “Don’t worry.” 

It seems to do the trick though, because he’s pushing himself up from the couch, gripping at your wrist now to pull you up as well. He pushes you gently by the small of your back to get you to walk in front of him, “Upstairs.” Is the only instruction he gives, along with a playful swat to your bottom as you start up the stairs. 

He’s crowding behind you, always following just one step behind as you make your way to his bedroom, suddenly aware that you didn’t make the bed when you rolled out of this morning. That’s surely another black mark to your name, you think, as he sits down on the edge of the bed. 

“Get undressed.” 

This is new, normally Joel liked to be the one to unwrap you, but you start working on the buttons of your shirt, undoing it and dropping it to the floor, followed closely behind by your jeans, leaving you standing in front of him in your underwear, “All of it.” He demands. 

Your hands shakily reach behind you to unclasp your bra, dragging it from your body to land with the rest of your clothes. You drag your panties down your legs and step out of them, wrapping your arms across your chest to try and cover yourself a little. Joel reaches out a hand to you, which you take timidly, expecting him to pull you into him so he could put his mouth on you, anywhere, but instead, you find yourself pulled to him and folded over his lap so quickly you let out a surprised yelp. 

“So fuckin’ naughty, all the damn time baby,” He speaks softly, running his fingers down the length of your spine, “Don’t ever think you’ll learn how to be good.” 

His hand trails down to your bare ass, gripping the skin with his hands, using his other arm to press you down into his lap, rough material of his jeans rubbing against the sensitive peaks of your tits and the soft skin of your tummy. He rubs his rough palm over the globes of your ass, anticipation building in your body. Then, he pulls away, bringing his palm down onto your ass with a satisfying ‘smack’ ringing through the air. It takes a while for your brain to catch up with what’s just happened, but then the stinging sensation settles across your skin and has you wriggling to get away. 

“Keep still,” Joel chastises, free hand digging further into the small of your back to keep you from moving, “That’s one, how many do you think you deserve baby?” He muses, “Fifty?” 

“W-what?!” You exclaim, “N-no Joel, that’s too much.” 

“Forty then?” His palm is cradling at the skin he’s just spanked. 

“T-ten?” You offer feebly. 

“Oh baby girl,” He tuts at you, “Aim higher.” 

“Fifteen?” 

“How about we settle for twenty, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet, “Twenty seems reasonable to me.” 

He doesn’t give you time to agree, it would seem the bargaining time is over, as he brings his palm back down onto your ass, harder than before, but in the same exact place. It jolts you on his lap, makes you cry out. The front of your body dragging against his denim. 

“How many?” He asks, rubbing his hand over the skin he’s just spanked. 

“Two.” You reply quietly, trying to keep the whimper you want to let out to yourself. 

“Good girl,” He praises, raising his hand again, “Keep count for me, okay?” 

Smack.

“Three!” You shriek, as his palm yet again connects with that same patch of skin. 

Smack.

“F-four.” 

Smack.

“Oh fuck,” You groan, trying to wriggle away unsuccessfully, it’s already too much, “Five!”

Smack.

This one doesn’t hurt as much; Joel’s shifted the assault of his palm onto the virgin side of your ass for you. You suck in a deep breath, try and blink away the tears that have formed in your eyes, as his hand massages where it’s just struck. He gives you another four on that cheek, and then switches back to the original, bringing his palm back down onto the skin that you’re sure is reddening by now. 

“Joel!” You cry out, tears dropping from your eyes now, but your body betrays you and arches your back for him, pushing your ass up like you’re asking for it, “E-eleven.” 

It carries on like that, five spanks to each cheek until you’re practically sobbing over his lap. You count the twentieth spank and a feeling of relief washes over you as he bends over you to press a light kiss to the sore skin he’s left. It makes you hiss, the contact, no matter how gentle he is with it. Then, he’s shifting you off his lap and onto the bed, letting you scurry away to the top of the mattress as he stands. 

The stinging of the skin of your ass is still making you sniffle as Joel shuffles to the bedside table, digging around in it. You’re not quite sure what he’s looking for, focusing mainly on trying to keep the red raw skin of your ass off the sheets, when he stands, throwing what he was looking for onto the sheets next to you. You turn your head and see the length of rope that he keeps in his drawer just for moments like this. 

“Arms up.” He short with you, sitting on his knees next to you. 

You do as you’re told, raising your arms above your head, still pushing your ass off the bed, but knowing soon enough you’ll be focused on something else that isn’t the stinging sensation of your ass. He takes your wrists and binds them together deftly, like it’s a walk in the park for him, like it’s something he does all the time. Then, once he’s sure your wrists are safely encased in rope, he takes the other end and ties it to his bed frame. He tugs slightly to make sure the way he’ll have you thrashing soon means that you won’t be able to pull yourself free. 

“That okay?” He asks gruffly, to which you nod, “Words, baby.” 

“Y-yes,” You stammer, “It’s okay.” 

“Remember your word?” He asks, stepping off the bed to partially undress, shucking his jeans and flannel off, but keeping his t-shirt and boxers on. 

“I remember.” 

He hums in approval, settling himself on the bed between your thighs, using wide palms to spread you open for him. You’re absolutely soaked, pussy dripping with slick from his palms and the way he’s trussed you up to his bed. 

Joel lets out a low whistle, letting his thumb rub up the length of your folds, “See,” He murmurs, using his thumb to gently spread the lips of your pussy to reveal your clit, already swollen and begging for attention, “Told ya that ya liked being punished too much,” He lets his thumb make a single swipe over that bundle of nerves, chuckling as you cry out, hips bucking to try and follow his finger, “She’s already fuckin’ soaked for me, baby.” 

You let out a high-pitched mewl, a begging sound that you hope tells him that you need him to touch you, you need to feel the pleasure you know he’s capable of after the pain he’s just inflicted. Mercifully he obliges, pressing the calloused pad of his thumb back to your clit, slick gathered there from before, as he starts rubbing in fast, precise circles. You’ve been so worked up that you can already feel the coil tightening in your tummy, and you know Joel can sense it as well, the way your hips are moving in time to his movements and the way you’re arching your back off the bed are a dead giveaway. 

You can feel yourself reaching that peak, so fucking close to tipping over the edge when he tears his hand away from your core and sits back, watching as you try and move back towards him, moaning in frustration at being left high and dry. You’re wriggling about, trying to close your thighs to rub them together to get yourself off, when he pushes a wide palm into your belly. He’s so powerful in the best way, stilling your movements immediately as you look up at him, face serious. 

“Remind me what the second thing on your list was this mornin’, baby?” He asks, voice as innocent as pie. 

You’re wracking your brain, lust making you more confused about what the fuck he’s even talking about. Then it dawns on you, what you’d told him downstairs. Felt horny so I got myself off. 

“You’ve got a big brain baby,” He coos, one palm squeezing your thigh, “I know you remember, so go on, tell me what you did.” 

“I g-got myself off.” 

“And is that what good girls do?” He asks, hand ghosting back to your pussy, knuckles of his hand brushing over your skin there. 

“N-no?” You question. 

“That’s right,” He hums, fingers slipping between your folds once more to gather some of the insane amount of slick that’s pooling at your aching entrance, “And besides, gettin’ to come is a reward, and I ain’t sure you deserve that right now.” 

His thumb is back on your clit now, moving in exactly the same way as before, with just the right amount of pressure to be building you back up. It feels so fucking good already and you know the way it feels when he tips you over the edge, you know how delicious it is and God, you want it so bad. 

“Please Joel,” You beg, all throaty and lust-filled, “I’ll be so good, I promise.” 

“Maybe ya should’a thought about that earlier,” He growls, “Before you came without me, thought you could do it better than me, huh?” 

“No!” You exclaim, because that’s definitely not true, you could never make yourself feel the way he does, “Oh God, please Joel.” You’re so fucking close, just a few more passes of his thumb and you could do it, you know you could, but so does he, which is why he’s tearing his thumb away from you again. 

You actually cry now, tears of frustration building in the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you thrash around on the bed, hissing when the rope around your wrist digs in but not caring all that much. 

“Quit your cryin’.” He chastises, hand on your hip to keep you still. 

You whimper, lip wobbling, trying to keep your cool. All you want is to reach out to him. You think if you could touch him, he would give you what you want, so you’re pretty sure that’s why he’s got you tied to the damn bed, to keep himself in check, to see this through, because Joel Miller always folds to you when you put your hands on him, weak man that he is. 

“You’re being so mean.” You cry out as he shifts, lying flat on his stomach so you can feel his breath on your aching pussy. 

“You were the one beggin’ to get punished baby,” And it smarts because it’s true, “I’m only givin’ you what you wanted.” 

He leans forward, tongue licking a stripe through your pussy, all the way up to your clit where he sucks the little bud into his mouth, rolls it between his lips and then lets it pop from his mouth like an ice-pop. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue a few times and you suck in a breath, your fingernails digging painfully into the palm of your hands as you focus on trying to reach the cliff edge and fall over it this time. 

You’re holding your breath, hips working in time with the movements of his mouth, eyes screwed shut just trying to focus on how good it feels. You can hear the rustling of sheets, which means if you were to open your eyes and look down at him, you’d find him grinding himself into the bedsheets for his own relief. He pulls off you, and you’re about to curse him out when he speaks. 

“You wanna come, baby?” He asks, punctuating it with a flick of his tongue. 

“Oh please Joel,” You beg, and even to your ears it sounds wrecked and pathetic, “Please let me come.” 

Then, you’re shrieking because the palm that has dealt so much damage to your ass this evening, has now swatted your aching cunt, “No.” He says simply, pushing himself back up and onto his knees. 

He pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere behind him. You’re squirming as he shucks off his boxers, moving awkwardly to kick them off, before he’s mounting your body, those strong thighs straddling your chest as his throbbing cock rests just millimetres from your mouth. He reaches down, let’s his fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls your head forward roughly. Your mouth, like muscle-memory takes over, opens, and the head of his cock slips over your tongue. You can already taste the salty beads of pre-cum as he shuffles forward a little, easing his cock into your mouth until it’s hitting the back of your throat. 

He holds your head steady with the fingers tangled in your hair as he fucks your throat. The sound is obscene, practically pornographic, the wet sounds that come as the head of his cock meets the back of your throat on every thrust. He pulls out of your mouth every now and then, when he’s thrust too hard and makes you gag on him, but fucking hell it’s turning you on so much. You can feel yourself literally dripping onto the sheets, you don’t think anything has ever made you this wet before. 

He pulls his cock out of your mouth one last time, a string of saliva connecting him to your mouth until he pulls away enough for it break, laying wet across your chin and down your neck. Joel shuffles back down your body and you think finally, you’re going to get some relief. 

He hooks your knees over his arms, pushing them forward to your chest as his throbbing cock slips through your folds. He rocks his hips a few times, the bulbous head of him swiping over your clit, before he unexpectedly buries himself into your soaked cunt in one go. 

You actually sob at the feeling. You’ve been so empty all night, and now you’re so full of him, so crowded by his body, that you finally feel some kind of relief. He’s still for a moment – once it would have been to get you used to the heft of him inside you, but right now, you know it’s because he’s just as fucked as you are, and he wants to make sure you’ve truly learnt your lesson. 

Once he’s collected himself, he sets a bruising pace. Cock dragging out of your slick heat and slamming back into you. He revels in the way your tits bounce with every thrust, so much so that he leans forward and bites at the flesh, sucking bruises into your skin as he pounds himself right into the very depth of you. 

“Doin’ so good for me baby,” He groans out against your skin, sucking your nipple into his mouth, letting it go with a wet pop as he pushes himself back up for me, “Takin’ your punishment so well.” 

The angle he’s got you folded into means the head of his cock is brushing against the spongy spot inside you every time. Your pussy is clenched so tightly around him that it’s a miracle he’s held on for this long. He finally brings his thumb back to your clit and you’re begging this time that he’ll let you finish, because if he doesn’t you’re pretty sure you might actually die. 

“Joel,” You mewl, “I’m g-gonna – holy shit – m’gonna come.” 

“Go on baby,” He finally relents, you let out a sob of relief, “Come on my cock for me, like a good girl.” 

It’s so overwhelming when it finally happens. Your vision blurs and blood rushes to your ears, blocking out any sound that isn’t the beating of your pulse. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight around him as pleasure finally floods through every inch of your body. You feel yourself literally gush on his cock, soaking his skin, your skin, the bedsheets beneath you. You think you might even scream his name as your body convulses and shakes, arches up into him. 

You’re slightly aware of him pulling his cock from inside you, letting your knees drop. You can hear the slap of his fist on his skin as he fists his cock, and then he’s growling out your name, his cum spattering over your tummy, lying hot and thick on your sticky skin. It’s silent for a good few moments, the only thing you can focus on is the sound of you both sucking in breath to your lungs and the burn of the rope around your wrists. 

“Look at me.” Joel demands, and you do, your eyes meeting his, which are almost black with lust, his face flushed, sweat pooling at his hairline. 

He drags a finger through the pools of his cum, bringing his fingers to your mouth. He presses them into the flat of your tongue, letting you swallow, which continues until you’ve cleaned every inch of him from your skin. He then works quickly to untie the knots that have you bound to the bed, freeing your skin from the burning feeling that’s settled there. 

“Stay still,” It’s still demanding, but it’s softer now, as he gets off the bed, dropping the rope to the floor, “I’ll be right back.” 

He comes back moments later with a glass of water and a cool cloth. He rolls you over onto your tummy, pressing the cool material to your ass, trying to soothe the red welts of his handprints that have already started to form. He presses soothing, open-mouth kisses to the skin before he rolls you back over onto your back. 

He moves you because you’re pliant now, to rest against the pillows, handing you the water to drink as he runs the last of the cooling cloth over your lower tummy and through the folds of your spent cunt, then it’s discarded to the floor with everything else, and you’re being pulled to his chest, kiss pressed to your forehead. 

“Too much?” He asks quietly, checking to make sure he hasn’t crossed some line with you. 

“Just perfect.” You reply, eye-lids heavy with sleep. 

He brings one of your wrists to his mouth, letting his tongue lick soothing stripes along the reddened skin there, kissing every now and then, but keeping you pressed tightly to his chest, you own arm draped around his waist.

“You learn your lesson?” He asks then. 

“Probably not,” You hum against the sweaty skin of his chest, “I don’t think you’re ever going to fuck the attitude outta me, Miller.” 

[bitchslappin]

Figure Studies

 

Summary: Joel let's his you paint him like one of your French girls (kind of not really).

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, no implied age gap but do what you want, sexual tension, voyeur to some degree, exhibitionism kind of, M masturbation, overstimulation a little bit, fluff for sure, Joel's so in love, idk the tags make it sound lame lol

Word count: 2.5k

“Quit starin’ at me. It’s creepy.”

   Joel’s voice is gruff. He’s bent over the dining room table, summer evening sun streaming in through the kitchen window. He’s cleaning his rifle. It’s been too long, he hasn’t been keeping on top of it, it’s been long enough since he’s had to use it. He’s been at it for the better part of an hour, stripped down to his t-shirt, hands covered in a layer of gun oil, sweat starting to bead on his neck from where the sun’s been resting. His girlfriend is standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, leaning on the doorframe, just watching him. She’d been down at the Tipsy Bison most of the morning, helping Maria draw up plans for the community garden expansion. Ellie is… well Joel doesn’t actually know. She hasn’t been home since last night. But she tends to couch hop around Jackson these days, and Joel can’t say he’s mad for the alone time while she bothers other people for once. 

   “Can’t help it.” She tells him with a slight grin as she cocks her head to the side, studying him. “You look so good right now.”

   Joel snorts and flicks his eyes to her, annoyed. “Yeah, right. Sweaty and greasy and angry. What a good look.” He snarks.

   He doesn’t have to see her roll her eyes, he can feel it. She walks in slowly. “‘M serious Joel. You look good.” She murmurs softly. She’s not teasing him this time, or even really flirting, her tone low and sincere. 

   He finally looks up at her then, pausing what he’s doing. His breath sticks in this throat a little bit. Even after years together, he’s not good at this. Accepting genuine compliments in a neutral setting. He’s gotten better at the flirting, and he’s more willing to give up some control in the bedroom, but this kind of thing? The softness? He’s still a little shy about it. He just shakes his head at her and says nothing. He won’t argue with her, but he doesn’t know what to say. He turns back to his task, wiping the stock of the rifle, trying to hide the tremor in his fingers. 

   She sits down next to him, pulling her legs up onto the chair and leaning her elbow on the table, her head in her hands. She watches him silently for a little while, and it’s easy for him to fall back into the rhythm of cleaning, zoning out a bit as he works. As he finishes up, fitting the pieces back into place, she interrupts the silence.

   “Can I draw you?” She asks quietly. He looks up at her with a furrowed brow. She’s quite the artist, always sketching and even painting when she has the time. One of her new friends had somehow gotten her a set of oil paints for her birthday, and Joel loved to sit for hours and watch her paint. She’s sketched him plenty of times. He’s seen some of them because she’s shown them to him, some because he spied them over her shoulder. But she’s never asked before. 

   “You… what, now?” He asks as his brows knit together in surprise. She just shakes her head with a smile. “Yeah now. Come on, please?”

   Goddamn him he can never resist that look on her face. Sweeter than sugar. He grumbles. “Fine fine…” He rolls his eyes as she smiles in triumph. “Where d’you want me?” 

   She stands and drags him by the hand into the living room, grabbing her sketchbook off the coffee table. The light is pouring into the living room as she pushes the curtains open. “Go sit on the couch. Just get comfy.” She tells him. He huffs about it but he goes to sit on the couch, groaning, when she turns back and makes a surprised noise. 

   “What are you doing?” She asks, an eyebrow raised in confusion. He’s hovering, halfway to sitting, and he frowns at her. “You told me to sit on the couch…?”

   She makes a noise in the back of her throat and pushes on her shoulder as she goes to sit on the coffee table in front of him, sketchbook on her lap. “You gotta undress first.”

   “What??” His lips part in shock and his eyebrows shoot up. “Fuck’re you talkin’ about?”

   She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Come on Joel, please? I haven’t ever been able to do real figure studies. Please?” She’s not teasing anymore, not trying to push his buttons. She’s genuinely asking. She’d always told him that when she was little, she’d dreamed about going to art school in a big city, sketching figure models for hours. But then of course… well you know what happened. He hovers there for a minute. It’s not like she hasn’t seen it before. Hell sometimes he feels like they see each other naked more than clothed. But it’s not the same. This is more exposed, in the sunlight, with her just staring at him. 

   “Can I just… just take my shirt off?” He asks with a nervous chuckle. He meets her gaze and he can see the slight of disappointment there, though she nods and gives him a smile. “Sure Joel, that’s fine.”

   He pulls the shirt over his head and hesitates, watching her face as she flips to a clean page in her sketchbook, twirling her hair up onto the back of her head and pinning it in place with a pencil. The sunlight makes all of her look golden, the strand of hair that escapes down her neck, the freckles on her cheeks… she’s glowing and he is powerless but to give her everything. Even something he thinks is silly. He huffs and commits, unbuttoning his pants and shoving everything down like he’s annoyed, but he’s really just nervous for some reason, and flops back on the couch. He shifts a little as she gazes at him. It feels different from when they’re in bed, the way she’s looking at him now. Now, she’s looking at him like a specimen, like something to study. 

   “So… how should I sit?” He asks nervously, scratching the back of his neck. Her gaze seems to shift suddenly and her eyes get softer as she smiles at him. She sets her sketch book aside and comes over to maneuver him, her brow furrowed in concentration. She pushes him to lean back, muttering “get comfy” to him softly. He leans back, one arm instinctively going to the back of the couch, his legs falling open comfortably. She smiles at him and adjusts his arm resting on the couch, moving his hand this way and that until she likes the angle. She moves to his legs then, her hands are warm and sure as she pushes at his knees, his thighs, adjusting them a little wider. He lets out a slow breath, trying to keep his cool. ‘This is for art, that’s it’ he tells himself. But then she takes his other arm, adjusting it across his body, placing his hand over his cock, already semi hard from her attention. He bluescreens for a second, looking up at her with wide shocked eyes. She just arches an eyebrow at him.

   “This okay?” She asks, her hands hovering and ready to move him if she needs to. He looks down at himself for a half a second before back up to her. ‘Be cool, Joel. Be cool’ he tells himself and clears his throat. 

   “Yeah. Yeah it’s… it’s fine.” He nods. She smiles brightly then and leans to peck a quick kiss on his lips, before moving back to the table to pick up her sketchbook. 

   She quickly gets lost in the drawing, holding her book on her knees, her pencil skritching on the paper softly. Her focus on him is intense, almost like she’s not really seeing him, she’s looking through him. For a while, he just watches her, fascinated. The way her brow is furrowed in focus, and the way her eyes move rapidly as she flicks her gaze between him and the paper. It seems silly to think but he finds himself feeling like he’s never seen her so… intimately. There’s something about the demeanor she has while she’s creating. He feels that way when he watches her paint, too, but he’s usually sitting behind her then, watching the colors take shape, looking at the landscapes with her. He’s never been the subject. He watches her fingers, delicate to him, though she might argue after the years of post-outbreak turmoil, as she uses her pencil like a magic wand. The movement of her hands is mesmerizing, the way the light catches her skin…

    It doesn’t take long for him to start getting hot under the figurative collar. ‘Stupid caveman brain’ he thinks to himself. He can’t help it. She’s so beautiful and she's looking at him like that and he feels so… vulnerable. He tries to stay still, to hold the pose, as he starts to harden under his palm. The couch under him, the sun streaming in, his hand on himself… everything is sticky and warm and his hard is beating faster. He shifts a bit in his seat, trying to hide it, to stay still for her, but catches the way he shudders as he slides against his sweaty palm. She’s doing some shading and doesn’t even look up from her paper when she breaks the silence in a low voice. 

   “Do you want to touch yourself?” She asks softly, her gaze fixed on the drawing. His head snaps up and his eyes dart around for a minute like he thinks she’ll be talking to someone else. He clears his throat.

   “Wh-what?” 

   She looks back up at him then. Her face is open, almost confused at his confusion. “Do you want to…” She gestures with her pencil at where his hand rests covering himself, speaking matter-of-factly. He glances down at his hand, curled around his hard dick. His brain still can’t process fast enough and he looks back up at her, just staring for a minute. 

   “Do you want me to?” Is what eventually spills out of his mouth. He swallows thickly as he keeps her gaze, a flush burning on the back of his neck. He’s never done anything like that before, not like this with her fully clothed and sitting five feet away from him. She smiles at him softly, the sweet look on her face is making him feel fuzzy and warm and he squirms a little bit, trying not to gasp at the friction against his palm. She nods after a beat.

   “Yeah honey, you should.” She says simply, sitting back again and picking up her pencil. She continues sketching like it’s a simple as that, but he feels caught in limbo. He doesn’t do anything at first, just sitting there with his hand curled around his cock, in the same position she put him in, a blush burning hot on his cheeks. She looks up at him for an extra beat before nodding her head at him. It’s like a signal and he jolts into action, sliding his hand loosely over his cock. 

   It feels… way better than it should and his eyes slip closed for a second, his breath hitching in his throat. Maybe it’s the build up, maybe it’s the heat in the room, or maybe it’s just the way she’s staring at him and how easy he is for her… He keeps his fist loose at first, but quickly tightens it as the movements become slick and easy, his arousal spiking. His head drops back against the back of the couch as he starts to lose himself in the movement until her voice cuts through his foggy mind.

   “Hold your pose please.” She asks firmly, her voice low. He snaps his head up and finds her eyes trained on him, his breath stuttering. She arches an eyebrow at him seriously. “I’m not finished with my drawing. Wait until I’m done.”

   The tone of her voice, the command to wait… it’s like flames licking up his spine and he barely suppresses a whine, his eyes squeezing closed. His hand is still sliding over his cock, slick with his steadily dripping arousal. She’s nearly ignoring him and it makes him feel hotter, desperate. 

   “Sugar…!” He whines. “I don’t think I can… I’m..” 

   She looks up at him again, her stern expression making him choke. 

   “You can.” She says firmly. It’s a little encouraging, a little humiliating. “Just five more minutes.” 

   He groans but finds himself nodding. She’s not usually so direct and it’s lighting a fire in his belly. He should slow down, back off a bit, but he can’t. It feels too good as he watches her pencil gliding over the page. His hips roll off the couch just barely, trying to meet the rhythm of his hand, and she either doesn’t notice, or more likely she doesn’t stop him. He’s whining through his teeth as he holds onto that knife's edge, he can’t help it. 

   “Sugar… baby…” he mutters softly, sweat dripping down the back of his neck, his mouth hanging open as he fixes his gaze on her. Maybe it’s the tone in his voice, the needy way he calls to her, or maybe she really is done, but she sets her sketch book aside, putting her pencil down, before leaning back on her hands casually. 

   “Go on then.” She tells him softly, and he breaks. The moan that tumbles out of his mouth would be embarrassing if he could hear it, but the static fills his ears as he comes hard all over his stomach. With his head tossed back against the couch, he doesn’t see the hungry look on her face, or the way she moves off the couch and kneels in front of him. He works himself through the high, his hand starting to slow and his chest heaving when she pushes his hand away, taking him in her own. He gasps sharply and looks down at her. 

   “Baby wha..?” He stutters out as she starts to stroke him firmly. She just smiles at him, leaning in to kiss his inner thigh as she works him over. Her grip is tight and slick, hot from her skin being in the sun, much smoother than his own hand, and he moans brokenly through the oversensitivity, squirming in her grip. “J-jesus baby.. Y-you…” He stutters out between sharp chirping breaths, his eyes rolling back in his head. 

   Eventually she slows her hand as he starts to soften, her movements still firm but stilling. She holds him until his breathing has calmed down. And he looks down at her. “What the fuck was that?” He asks, his voice raspy. She just laughs and shrugs. 

   “You just looked so pretty, I wanted to join in.” She tells him as she leans her head on his thigh.

   He blushes hotly and looks away for a minute. The afternoon has left him feeling vulnerable, but also syrupy and soft, better than he has in a long time.

   “I… you…” He looks back down at her before huffing in frustration. “Just get up here.” She mutters and grabs her by the elbows, manhandling her into his lap as she laughs. He drags her in for a kiss, hot and lush, before flipping her over onto the couch, looming over her.

   “My turn.”

[dilvuc]

I recently found your work and I really enjoyed your snapped fic with Floyd! I was wondering if you would do something similar with Jade, with reader getting mad at him for his condescending and passive aggressive ness?

❝STORM❞

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst/fluff

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗: male

𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖑𝖊: storm

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: jade leech x bison beastman!m!reader(+ azul/floyd/ruggie)

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: none

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: because of his passive aggressive behavior, you snapped at him

here he goes again. everytime, he's only doing this for his own enjoyment. why is jade targeting you? why must he want to see discomfort in you? what the hell is his problem? you thought you got used to it, but it was starting to pissed you off. you never thought it would make you even more pissed off after you lost the spelldrive tournament against diasomnia. you were angry by your loss and needed time to relax your anger until jade showed up.

“Oh? You lost the Spelldrive Tournament against Diasomnia?” jade smirked, holding a towel out to you, “It was satisfying to watch you lose against them. Besides, your dorm will never beat Diasomnia if you're never at their level…However—”

you harshly slapped the towel out of jade’s hand, catching him by surprise. you stood up abruptly off the bench and glared at the male, “Can't you get off my fucking back?! What is it that you want from me?! Are you trying to anger me because I'm a buffalo?!”

jade gasped, a little taken back by your outburst, “No—”

“Shut up! I'M SICK OF YOU! I'M SICK OF ALL OF THIS! WHAT'S THE DEAL OF TRYING TO BRING DISCOMFORT TO OTHERS AND CAUSE THEM PROBLEM?! ARE YOU FUCKING BRAINDEAD?!” you snapped, stepping close to jade, who stumbled back a little. “Fuck off and go fuck yourself! I don't have time to deal with you anymore! Stay away from me!”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“I see…apologies for wasting your time…” jade apologized. you give him a scoff and storm off, leaving the teal haired male alone. after you left, jade pulled an envelope from his back pocket and stared at it for a bit. he clenched on the envelope before ripping it to shreds.

“...idiot…you're an idiot…” jade muttered to himself as his vision went blurry. the male rubbed his eyes, realizing that it was tears pouring from his eyes. “A…ah…I shouldn't. I mustn't…he doesn't need you. He never needs you…”

as the teal haired male left, ruggie moved out of his hiding place and picked up the shredding envelope. it's a shame that he had to put in pieces. luckily, torned up papers aren't too small, so it's easy to put them together.

“Hey! Jade! Open up!” floyd hollered out as he bangs on the bedroom door, but there was no response. “Huh? Why isn't he saying anything…? Oi! We'll be serving mushroom stew if you like!”

“...”

“Eh…? He's not responding? But he loves mushrooms.” the disorganized twin tilted his head. azul arrived at the scene, “What's going on? There are customers waiting.”

“I think there's something wrong with Jade. He locked himself in the room.” floyd pointed before crossing his arms, “Something must've happened.”

“...Kicked the door open.” azul ordered.

“Fine. You better not charge me for this.” the taller male huffed before kicking the door down. “Oi! Jade! What's going on—”

floyd paused mid-sentence when he noticed his brother cowering under the blanket, “Hey…what's with you…?”

“A-ah…Nothing.” jade responded from under the quilt. floyd marched over and grabbed the blanket, but his brother clutched onto the blanket to stop him from pulling it off. “I’m fine…! J-just sick!”

“Liar.” floyd scoffed before pulling the whole blanket off of jade. azul and floyd gasped when they noticed tears pouring from jade's eyes. “Huh? Are you crying?”

“N…no! J…just…”

“Oi. Stop lying already.” floyd furrowing his eyebrows at his brother's attempt of lying.

“Jade, did something happen?” azul asked. jade sniffled, wiping away his tears with his sleeves, “...S…sorry, it was my fault that this happened.”

“What happened?” the housewaren questioned.

“Fuck me…I never thought I will be raising my voice at him…” you grumbled, ruffling your hair back. you have a bad temper and you can't help yourself. you can be sensitive most of the time and you hate yourself for that. sure, jade pissed you off, but you don't hate it. why did you have to snap at him like that? basically you were devastated by your loss against diasomnia and he somehow ruined your mood.

“That was fucked up, you know?” you jumped when you heard ruggie at your door frame. the hyena beastman placed the paper on your desk, “This belongs to you.”

“What's this?” you asked.

“Just read it and you'll see.”

“And that's what happened. I didn't think he would storm at me. Maybe I went too far…” jade sniffled, tossing another ball of tissues on the floor.

“I've heard that buffalo get aggressive. I wouldn't be surprised that [Y] be so sensitive.” azul mumbled.

“Maybe I should apologize to him…?” the organized twin questioned. floyd huffed, “He made you cry, so he should apologize. I want to break his horns or rip the piercing from his nose.”

“N-no need. I can take care of this…” jade rubbed his red eyes. “I started it…”

“Vice-housewaren. There's someone who wishes to see you.” A Octavinelle student said.

“...?”

jade arrived at the lounge to meet up with this person. to his surprise, the person turned out to be you. “[Y]...? Ah. Pardon me. You might come here to yell at me…”

“No. I'm not here to yell at you…” you calmly deny. the teal haired male looks at you confused, “Is there something you need? I…I promise that I won't provoke you again. I didn't mean to—”

“Jade, it's ok. It's my fault for snapping at you. I didn't mind you teasing me and all, but you provoked me at the wrong time.” you spoke, clutching the paper in your hand. jade frowned while fiddling with his fingers, “Sorry…”

azul and floyd peek in the lounge and listen in on your conversation. you sighed, “Stop apologizing. I'm the one who should apologize.”

you bow 180° and apologized sincerely, “I'm sorry for snapping at you. I let my anger out on you after my dorm lost to Diasomnia again.”

“I know you didn't mean those words. Anger just took the best of me. Sorry…” you finished apologizing before holding up the letter to jade. “Is this yours?”

“Ah?” jade looks at the taped letter in your hand before slowly turning red. “S-sorry! That's nothing!”

before he could snatch it, you swipe it back from his reach, “So, you were planning to confess to me, huh?”

“I…! I-I wasn't going to! It's embarrassing…!” jade blushed with his hands over his face. you reread the love letter before turning your attention back on the flustered jade, “You've been teasing me because you have feelings for me, huh? You just haven't had the courage to tell me how you really feel.”

“...You already read it. Please forget it. It probably not worth it—”

“I love you, too, mushroom lover.” you confessed. “Even if you always pissed me off, I always enjoy your company. You still pissed me off either way.”

jade gawked at your harsh confession, but was glad that you accepted his feelings, “...O…oh, it was still silly of me to make a love letter to a hairy buffalo who has so much facial hair.”

“Oi. I don't have that much facial hair.” you glared. the teal haired male chuckled, “You're close to growing a beard.”

“I'm fine with a beard! I'm not an eel who's afraid of heights. I find it satisfying to see you scared.”

“Well, I wouldn't be so afraid of small, harmless cats. You climb up a tree to avoid it~”

“I wouldn't mind eating eels for dinner.”

“Same with buffalo~”

“Hm. Are they hating or dating? They're spitting insults at each other…” azul sweatdropped as you and jade argued. “Or it's a competition…?”

“Hehehehe~ As long as Ictiobus-kun didn't make Jade cry again then we're fine.” Floyd chuckled.

╰┈➤ author note: please note that this is a slow update. i will still accept your request, but it will take a while since i'll be working on my books on wattpad. if you wish to read those books, here's my wattpad account.

rules

twisted wonderland masterlist

[king-crawler]

The Disney villain book i ordered 3 weeks ago finally came and the sleeve was oily and chafed but at least I get the fabled single paragraph of King Candy insight

this is truly a game changer

And ralf

[TEXT DESCRIPTION BELOW]

Page 166: Disney Villains: Delightfully Evil.

KING CANDY - WRECK-IT RALPH.

RELEASE DATE: November 2, 2012.

DIRECTOR: Rich Moore.

VOICE TALENT: Alan Tudyk.

ANIMATOR: Zach Parrish.

"Everyone should have known with a pass code like UP, UP, DOWN, DOWN, LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT, RIGHT, B, A, START that this sugary-sweet king was not on the up-and-up. Who in the gaming world doesn't know that cheat code?! King Candy is the ruler of Sugar Rush, a video game made of everything sweet to eat, or as a wise Wreck- It Ralph sees it, a "candy-coated heart of darkness.' " But Sugar Rush was not always such a dark place; it was once a happy kingdom where Princess Vanellope von Schweetz ruled until an evil racer from a game called Turbo Time messed with her code and took her game for his own. The biggest shock? King Candy and that villainous racer known as Turbo are one and the same. Alan Tudyk, the voice of King Candy, said he had imagined King Candy to be a much bigger character, size-wise, and found it really funny that he was actually such a small man."

“Portrait of King Candy. Artist: Clay Loftis. Medium: Digital."

“Final Frames of Turbo from Wreck-It Ralph (2012)”

"Concept art of Turbo. Artist: Jim Kim. Medium: digital."

Page 184: Disney Villains: Delightfully Evil.

WRECK-IT RALPH - Wreck-It Ralph.

RELEASE DATE: November 2, 2012.

DIRECTOR: Rich Moore.

VOICE TALENT: John C. Reilly

ANIMATOR: Nik Ranieri

“Wreck-It Ralph is a "bad guy" who has been forced to spend every day for the last thirty years trying to destroy the apartment building that took his home away and to thwart Fix-It Felix from fixing everything Ralph wrecks. After "wrecking" the thirtieth anniversary celebration of his game, Ralph decides to go on a quest to earn a medal and prove to everyone, including himself, that he can be a good guy and do good things. In an interview with the Los Angeles Times, director Rich Moore said that the idea for Wreck-It Ralph came when he was asked by Walt Disney Animation Studios to revamp an idea they had been working on for a while: a movie that takes place in a video game. "Video game characters do the same job every day," said Moore. "I don't know how you could tell a story about that, and then it kind of hits me. ... What if the main character did not like his job? If you had a character who is actually wondering: Is this all there is to life?" "

Concept Art of Vanellope and Ralph. Artist: Bill Schwab. Medium: digital.

Page 185: Disney Villains: Delightfully Evil.

Story sketches of Ralph. Artist: Jim Kim. Medium: Graphite

Final character pose of Ralph.

Final frame of ralph with the Bad-Anon support group from Wreck-It Ralph, 2012.

“Bad-Anon-One Game at a Time

"I'm bad, and that's good. I will never be good, and that's not bad. There's no one I'd rather be than me."

-The Bad Guy Affirmation

Evervone needs a little help from their friends, even if their friends are a group of "bad guys." Bad-Anon is a place where the who's who of gaming bad guys can meet and talk about their feelings and what it is like to always be the one everyone loves to beat. Here are some of the familiar faces from the video games of the 1980s and 1990s.”

Bowser--King Koopa from Super Mario Bros.

Clyde--Ghost from Pac-Man.

Dr. Robotnik- -as himself from Sonic the Hedgehog.

Kano--as himself from Mortal Kombat.

M. Bison--as himself from Street Fighter.

Neff-as himself from Altered Beast.

Zangief-Red Cyclone from the Street Fighter series.

[TEXT DESCRIPTION END]

[gracieheartspedro]

Cool About It

it's here. the third and final part!

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: it's been over a year with joel and some things have just fallen apart. you miss him, more than you'd like to admit. after some time apart, you find yourself at tommy's christmas party. your recent endeavours catch up with you, and joel doesn't like the way it's looking.

Part 3/3

Links for Part 1 Part 2

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, very angsty, age gap, joel being very protective, use of homophobic slang, guy being creepy towards reader, very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, pet names

Author's Note: I'm so happy to bring this final part to you beautiful people. I've loved writing this series so much! Thank you for your patience and kindness. please leave feedback, I love hearing from you guys.

Once, I took your medication to know what it's like

And now I have to act like I can't read your mind

I ask you how you're doing and I let you lie

But we don't have to talk about it

I can walk you home and practice method acting

I'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning

Tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing

Even though we know it isn't true

“So are you and Joel going to work it out?” 

It was a question bearing on your mind for months. You really didn’t want to hear it from Ellie.

You and Joel had officially been broken up for three months after seeing each other for over a year. It was never a concrete thing, the foundation of your relationship was cracked due to some unresolved trauma from both of your pasts. Joel was in the same boat as you when it came to not being able to cope with his grief. His daughter being taken from him so young, the horrors he went through trying to survive the end of the world, and of course the deep and complex relationship he had with Ellie. You had a lot of unsettled trauma from losing your entire family and being alone for most of your life. You also always had this sinking feeling that he was not telling you the full story about the last couple years. He seemed hesitant to discuss how he found Ellie in the first place. You could tell there was some awkward tension and unresolved issues between the two of them. You just wanted to help.

He started drinking a whole lot towards the tail end of the relationship and you weren’t sure why. He’d stumble back home drunk, not even able to kiss you goodnight. 

It was getting complicated. He was terrible about communicating his feelings and you were too stubborn to accept you were ever wrong. 

Of course, there were good times. Like all of the Saturday nights going out dancing with Tommy and Maria. The game nights with Ellie. Sitting outside on his front porch with nothing but his guitar, making you sing songs only your father would know.

You missed him terribly. But you knew it was for the better. It has to be for the better. 

Ellie sits next to you at the annual Christmas party which was hosted by Maria and Tommy. They usually did it at their house, but with a toddler, it just didn’t seem realistic there anymore. So instead, they had it at the large food hall and invited all of Jackson. 

You glance over at her, your eyes glazed over from all the alcohol you’d been consuming. 

That was another thing. You couldn’t stop drinking, now. It was the only way you could get to sleep at night. You had even started going to the Tipsy Bison every night to get wasted and on some rare occasions, have a guy take you home. 

You were almost positive Joel was sleeping with one of the other patrol leaders too, a girl named Kelly. She had made eyes at him before you two got together. You’d seen them around a couple times, just talking and getting close. The first time you saw them, you got wasted at the Bison and threw up your entire breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

It only made you want to get over him faster, so having those guys take you home was a distraction. But you’d never fully admit that.

“I don’t know, kid,” Is all you could think to say to Ellie. Your mind was muddled with stupid emotions and disgusting whiskey. 

“He’s nicer when you’re around. Now, he’s just… angry.”

You felt bad. But you couldn’t fall back into that routine with Joel. Fight, makeup, fight again. There was an extreme disconnect in communication. It was exhausting. 

You stand up on wobbly legs, “I’m gonna go grab ‘nother drink. You want somethin’?”

Ellie was technically underage but you knew she drank with her friends sometimes. She looked at you with a bit of contempt. 

“No, thanks.”

You shrug, sauntering back over to the bar. 

You notice a familiar silhouette at the end of the bar, but don’t bother glancing that direction. You knew he was watching you and Ellie talking a second ago, his eyes always trailing you. You didn’t want to look over and see Kelly beside him, so you act like he isn’t even there. 

“Another whiskey, pleaseeee,” You beg the bartender standing nearby. He doesn’t look too happy about serving you more, but you had lost all sense of self control about an hour ago and he knew that by the look on your face. He pours you some more dark liquor and sends you on your way. 

As soon as you turn to walk away, you spot another familiar face walking directly towards you. 

Josh Hall.

He was one of the guys you slept with. He was a nice guy, kinda. He was a know it all, shallow, and a bit arrogant. So maybe not a nice guy. 

You slept with him twice, both times when you were drunk. From what you could remember, he didn’t make you cum. 

He was only a bit taller than you, blonde hair and blue eyes. He was cute enough to get into your pants. But every time you thought about any other man, you reminded yourself that it wasn’t Joel.

“Hey there,” You try not to slur, “How are ya?”

“Hi beautiful,” He grabs your hand, pulling you in for what you assume is a kiss. You wince, directing his lips to your cheek. He presses his chapped lips against your skin. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to avoid the gazes of the people around you. You could feel his eyes on you even from 50 feet away. 

“Thought you’d wanna come dance with me,” He has his hand slipping around your waist. You feel a sinking feeling in your stomach. He knew you were drinking, your glass swaying right in front of his face.

Your red flags are raising quickly. Josh never approached you any other times of the day. Never during patrols, never just around town. He only showed interest when you had a glass of liquor in your hand. 

“I am actually bringing this drink to someone, so please get off of me,” You lie, trying to get him away. 

You had to be patient with a guy like Josh. He could be pushy sometimes, so you had to be firm but sweet. You wouldn’t want to start a stir at a party with a bunch of families, right?

But he wasn’t letting go. 

His eyes were piercing into yours. You could tell he was drinking, his eyes a bit glassy like yours. You hadn’t even seen him come into the party. It’s like he just appeared to make you mad. 

“Just have one dance with me,” His breath stunk of alcohol and unbrushed plaque. You wanted to vomit.

“No, I need to bring this drink to someone.”

His grip is getting progressively tighter and he’s walking you backward.

“Who? Who’s drink is it? New boyfriend?”

You swallow hard, not knowing who to say.

“It’s for Ellie.”

He smirks, “You givin’ an underage dyke a drink? Don’t think her daddy would like that.”

Something in you flips. Rage. Pure unadulterated rage. Your body doesn’t even give your brain a moment to mull over your next move. You throw the drink on the ground, the glass shattering all over the floor. You step back, finally breaking away from him. 

“What did you just fuckin’ say?!”

He releases you, backing up. He had this offended look on his face, like you had kicked a puppy. 

Liar.

It made you even more mad.

“What did you say, Josh?” You emphasize his name, never breaking eye contact, “You fuckin’ call her that again I’ll fucking kill you.”

You stomp forward, your hands reaching up to him. You had never snapped so quickly in your life. Something about him saying negative about Ellie made your protective maternal instinct go into overdrive. Ellie meant a lot to you, especially after spending the last year with her and Joel.

Your fingers wrap around his scrawny little throat. He was trying to back away, but a table stopped all his movements. He was pinned. 

“You fuckin’ dare talk about her or anyone I fuckin’ know, I will make sure you never utter another wor-“ You feel hands around your waist, pulling you back from possibly choking him out. It almost takes the wind out of you. Your hands let go of his neck, but not without digging your fingernails into his skin. 

You are so blindsided, you don’t even know who has a grip on you. 

“Hey, hey, stop!” His voice is familiar. Almost Joel’s, but not. 

No, because Joel is instead grabbing Josh from the spot you pinned him to. You look back and see Tommy, his face panicked and confused.

You watch as Joel grabs Josh by the shirt, throwing him towards the middle of the dance floor. A bunch of people are standing around watching Josh stumble, trying to gain his composure. The music completely stops, bringing the hall to complete silence. Joel doesn’t give him enough time to stand up straight. You try to push Tommy off of you, but he’s got an iron grip on you. 

“What did he say?” Joel yells towards you, gesturing towards Josh. Everyone has completely stopped what they are doing to watch the scene unfold. 

You look towards where Ellie is, her face twisted in horror. Jesse stands next to her, his face serious. You know this is probably embarrassing for her, so all the anger leaves your body, replaced with guilt and shame.

“Joel,” You warn, “Please.”

Joel was extremely protective when you two were together. Ever since you two split, he has tried his very hardest to not snap. Once he sees a man’s hands on you, though, he can’t help but let fury fill his entire being. Tonight was no exception except this time, you got violent before he could. Which only meant you had no other choice. You usually keep a calm exterior, trying not to step on anyone’s toes. When you drink, you’re actually sweeter and more complacent. 

“What did he say?”

Instead of you saying anything, Maria steps in. She wedges herself between Joel and Josh, making sure neither one of them takes another step. 

“Cool it!” She yells, her eyes flying over to you being held back by Tommy. 

“He better get his ass out of this tow-“

“Shut it, Joel,” She warns, reaching out for his arm, “Let’s take a walk.”

“‘m not going anywhere,” His voice is booming which sends a chill down your spine, “Get this fucker out of here and away from her.”

He looks towards you, Tommy slowly loosening his grip on your upper body. You wiggle out, trying to steady your breathing. You didn’t even realize that you were panting like a dog.

You’ve completely sobered up. The dizziness you feel is just from adrenaline.

Maria guides Josh to the door, listening to him rant about his side of the story. You look back at Tommy, who’s obviously taken aback by the way you snapped. He’s never seen you so mad.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Tommy. He just said something about Ellie,” You whisper it, trying to ensure Joel didn’t hear. You know well enough that if he found out the words Josh uttered, he would have a pistol between the poor guy’s eyes. 

“I think you need to go home and cool down,” Tommy suggests, “This is not the place for that.”

You felt horrible. Everyone’s eyes were still on you. You nod, understanding Tommy’s reasonings for practically kicking you out of the party. He gestures Joel over, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“I’m gonna have someone walk her home,” He nods to you, “Would you be willin’ to or should I ask Jesse?”

Joel shakes his head, “I’ll get her home.”

“I can get home myself,” You retort, trying to regain some sort of control over the situation. You didn’t want Jesse or Joel walking you home, it felt like a walk of shame times a million.

“Get her home safe, Joel,” Tommy remarks, tapping you on the shoulder. He wasn’t giving you an option. 

You step over the shattered glass, while Joel guides you to the door. You felt so humiliated, not knowing what face to make at the people who were scowling you. So you keep your head down, grabbing your coat from the chair beside Ellie. Joel is trailing behind you. You look up for a second, meeting Ellie’s brown eyes. 

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” You mumble, “For everything.”

She shakes her head, her lips thin, “It’s okay. Get home safe.”

Joel taps your shoulder, nodding his head towards the door. You put your winter coat on, pulling out your hair that’s stuck between it and your thermal.

It was snowing, soft pillows of white ice covering all of Jackson. You breathe out a loud sigh when you get outside, while Joel shuts the dinner hall door. 

You didn’t know what to say to him, really. You felt like he shouldn’t have stepped in, but deep down you were glad he did because it probably put the fear of God into Josh. Maybe he won’t ever speak to you again.  

When you start on your journey home, you and Joel are silent. You hadn’t spoken much since your separation. You two got into a huge blowout fight in which the both of you said some pretty terrible things to each other. It was the first and last time you yelled at Joel. 

“Why can’t I just make my own decisions?”

“You almost got yourself killed! You almost got Ellie killed. How the fuck am I supposed to react? Just let you two back on patrol like nothin’ happened!? No fuckin’ way. You’re not going back out unless I’m with you.”

Your heart was going to beat out of your chest, “I had it under fucking control, Joel! You always find ways to blame me for something! I brought her home. I did. You weren’t fucking there because you were too fucked up to even get up this morning,” You knew that stung, the way his face twisted in disgust, “You’re the last person on Earth to make decisions for me or Ellie.”

You struck a nerve, you could tell by the deadly serious look on his face. 

“You don’t know what’s good for, Ellie. Stop actin’ like you fuckin’ do. You have manipulated her to believe she knows what’s good for her. She doesn’t, okay?”

He couldn’t be serious. 

“You’re not even her real father, Joel. She is going to remember all the times you shut her down and made her feel like she didn’t have a choice. Is it really worth your pride?”

He slams his fist on the table, “Get the fuck out!”

You accept that as the end of the conversation and the relationship. 

You start to walk through the slush, knowing you had a good 15 minute walk home. You felt sick with anxiety.

“How have you been doin’?” 

You laugh, “Fuckin’ fantastic, Joel.”

“Yeah me too,” He lies. He clears his throat before continuing, “So, what did he say?”

“Drop it Joel,” You warn, a hiccup coming up your throat, “Let’s just not talk about it ever again.”

“I’ll get it out of ya one day,” He comments, zipping up his jacket some more. You shake your head, chuckling a bit at the absurdity.

“You didn’t have to step in,” You add, “I had it handled. Like I always do.”

His pace picks up, matching yours. 

“Wrapping your hands around ‘nother guys throat is not very you, darlin’,” He says, grabbing your arm to halt your next step, “He had to of said something pretty bad for you to throw your drink and choke him out in front of a bunch of people.”

You knew what he was trying to do. He wanted to lure it out of you, but you weren’t caving. He was good at making it seem like there was no choice other than tell him what happened. 

“Guess you’ll never know, Miller,” You tug your arm away, “Tommy said you’d walk me home, not interrogate me.”

He huffs, “You are so stubborn.”

You stop mid step, turning to look him in the eye. You couldn’t believe your ears. 

“You’re the one to talk, Joel.”

“And you need to quit the drinkin’. Makes you sloppy.”

His tone was condescending and for him to call you out on drinking? No fucking way.

“You sure were sloppy the last couple times I saw you drinkin’. Remember the four patrol shifts you had last summer you couldn’t get to cause you were too fucked up the night before? Or how about a couple weeks ago when you tried to fight that guy at the Bison?”

He takes note of your aggressive tone. You weren’t just going to cower your head and take his shit. 

Maybe you were using the drinking to not think about the fact that you missed his stupid ass. Maybe it was to medicate the anxiety that rattled your bones every time he slipped your mind. Either way, he was such a hypocrite for trying to use that against you. Make it seem like he wasn’t doing that same thing when you were still together. 

“I’ve quit all the drinkin’… and hey, he called you a name,” He mumbles, “Had to put him in his place.”

You furrow your eyebrows at his statement, “What do you mean he called me a name?”

He continues to walk, almost trying to physically dodge the question. But if he was going to be persistent, you were going to be, too.

“Joel-“

“Garrett said you were whoring yourself out to him and a couple of the other guys. Called you a slut,” He confesses, not looking towards you at all.

You felt sick to your stomach. Garrett was a guy you had patrolled with, a guy who seemed really nice to your face. The same guy Joel gave a black eye to. 

“I’ve only slept with like, two other people.”

You could tell it rattled him a bit. It was a statement he couldn’t be mad at, really. He was a man with needs, too. 

“Well, the word’s gettin’ around. He said you told him he had the best dick you’ve ever had,” He laughed as the words slipped his tongue, “God knows that’s ain’t true.”

You push your hands into your pockets, “I never slept with him. It’s only been Josh and…”

You stop yourself, instantly feeling sick to your stomach at the next name that almost came out your mouth. It was something you regretted so deeply in every fiber of your being. Something you tried to forget the very second the interaction.

“Who else?”

“No one,” You say, trying to steady your voice, “None of your business.”

“It was Jesse, wasn’t it?”

Caught.

You cough, clearing your throat. You never wanted to talk about this to anyone, let alone Joel. You were desperate and no other guys really made you feel appreciated. 

The wind picks up, which causes the snow to billow towards your face and take your breath away.

“Can we just,” You shake your head, trying to get the hair out of your face, “Can we just discuss this when we get to my house?”

He leads the way, moving quickly. You follow close behind, almost using his body as a shield from the snowstorm. When you finally see your house through your frosted lashes, you feel some sense of relief. 

Joel walks up to your front porch, gesturing to you to lead the way. You knew you’d have to light a fire in the living room and warm up the small abode, so once you open the door, you rush to your fireplace. You stack wood, not taking much mind to Joel who’s kicking off his shoes and removing his coat. 

You didn’t want to do this with him. You didn’t want to discuss anything, explain yourself, or hash out any unresolved bullshit. After the night you had, you wanted to carry yourself straight to bed. 

“Want help?”

You crouch down, flicking a match into the pit, igniting the old coals. 

“No, I got it, Joel.”

He huffs, sitting down on your slouchy red couch. Nothing in your house was particularly nice, but you kept it clean and tidy. Everything had a spot, except for the man taking up space before you.

“So,” He slaps his hands on his knees, “You want to explain or?”

“No Joel,” You respond, “I don't feel like I owe you an explanation, truthfully. I honestly don’t wanna rehash all this shit with you.”

His lips tighten into a half smirk, “Okay, that’s fine.”

Silence fills the room again. You were shocked he didn’t press it further, but a bit relieved. 

“Just wanna ask one thing,” He grumbles. You stand up straight, shimmying your coat down your arms.

“What?”

“Was his dick the best one you’ve ever had?”

You feel like all the air has left your body. 

“What?”

“Jesse. Josh. Were they the best you’ve ever had?”

Hearing their names made you cringe. You knew your answer, but you wonder if you should indulge him in the truth.

He knew it already, but he wanted to hear it from your lips. The haze and exhaustion from the crazy evening makes the confession slip from your lips. 

“Joel,” You whisper, “You know damn well they aren’t shit compared to you.”

It’s like you blinked and he’s on you. His hands slide up your waist, grabbing your hips and pulling you into a bruising kiss. You don’t pull away because this is what you’ve been wanting. 

The sex with Joel was like nothing else. Maybe your relationship was rocky. Maybe you hated the way he spoke to you sometimes. Maybe you hated the way he tried to control every little thing. 

But the sex made it all worth it.

The way his hands molded around your body. His lips trailing up and down from your neck to your calves. He knew your body better than you probably knew it yourself. He never walked away from an encounter without making you cum several times. He could play you like his guitar. 

You two are falling all over your furniture to make it to the couch. He sits down, holding you close while you straddle his thighs. He’s not letting up, his kisses feverish and hurried. 

You pull away to catch your breath. His pupils are huge and his lips are already swollen. 

“What are we doing?” You whisper, using your thumb to brush across his pink lips. 

“This is what we do, baby,” He grabs your ass, pulling you flush with his crouch, “We fight and fuck. That’s all we do.”

You lean up, grinding down on his growing bulge. 

“I shouldn’t want to, but fuck,” You throw your head back, trying to ease the throbbing you feel, “I always want you, Joel.”

“I always want you too, sweetheart,” His hand finds the back of your neck, rubbing circles into the sides while you grind yourself on his lap, “I don’t want any other pussy but yours. No one else compares.”

You smile in sick pleasure, “We are so fuckin’ toxic, Joel Miller.”

He laughs, pulling your head forward. Your eyes meet his and it’s a sudden realization that you two are just actually insane. That after all the bullshit you put each other through, your horniness always wins. He wants you just as much as you want him, and yet you two can never figure out how to work problems out like actual adults.

“Tell me you don’t fuckin’ like it that way,” He trails a kiss up your neck to earlobe, “And I’ll stop right now. Leave you alone forever. Keep your dirty little secret that you like to fuck guys half your age.”

The rise Joel Miller can get out of you should be studied. He knows exactly how to push every button you’ve ever had, even the one’s you didn’t know existed. The idea of people knowing you fucked Jesse makes your stomach twist, especially since he was Ellie’s friend. 

You and Joel’s age gap never really bothered you. Maybe it was because he was older than you, but he didn’t feel that much older than you. You felt ancient with Jesse and even Josh. Joel made you feel like you were on the same level with a man.

You stop grinding on him, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling him back to meet your gaze. He’s smiling a shit eating grin, knowing you’re pissed. 

“You’re the guy who’s fucking people half your age,” You lift yourself a bit, looking down at him with half lidded eyes, “And you flaunt it. You love having me as your little play thing. Y-”

“And you fuckin’ love it.”

“I’m talking,” You shush him, “You are going to let me talk.”

You grab his belt undoing it like you used to almost every night, “You’re going to sit back like a good boy, and let me remind you why this is the only pussy you want to fuck.”

Joel has never seen you like this. It’s like the distance between you two gave you time to gain more confidence. You tested him now, and he kind of liked it. He’d never say but he loved when you were bratty to him. Sure, before you were a little smart ass, but you were practically dominating him. It was a good change of pace. 

“Talk ‘bout toxic, baby girl,” He groans, “You know I can’t sit back and be a good boy.”

You use one hand to reach into his pants and grab his hard on. 

“You’re going to learn today,” You smile, “Because if you don’t, you’ll walk home with blue balls and you can call Kelly over to fuck you.”

He chuckles a bit, “Sounds like you’re jealous.”

You stop your actions, looking at his smug fucking face. 

“You literally just interrogated me about how I fucked half of Jackson,” You spit, “I can continue adding to the tallies. Have you watch me whore myself out to all of your patrol partners.”

“You ain-”

“Maybe I’ll get even bolder,” You continue, “Maybe I’ll even try to fuck the other Miller boy.”

You were completely fibbing. You’d never cross that line. You loved Maria and you respected her more than any other person in Jackson. You just really wanted to get under Joel’s skin.

And you quickly realize you did.

He flips you on your back and cages you under his arms. 

“You’re a fuckin’ dirty slut,” He is grabbing at your pants, yanking them down. Your jeans were skin tight and wet, but it took no time at all for him to tear them off your body, “You ain’t in charge here.”

“Let me up,” You demand, pushing at his chest. He wasn’t budging, he was on a mission. He tears off your underwear, exposing your wet slit. You didn’t even realize how dripping you were for him. 

“Look at you,” He teases, “Fuckin’ pathetic. Tryin’ to say you’d fuck my brother?” 

He shakes his head, using his fingers to trace up and down your slit. You wanted to scream out, but your mind goes blank. You were quaking with anticipation. You surrender to him pinning you against the couch. You’d get him back eventually.

“He’d never fuck a slut like you,” He continues, “No, he doesn’t know how to handle someone like you.”

“And you do?”

“I’ve been at it for awhile,” He sticks a single finger in you, making a squelching sound as he does, “Think ‘m gettin’ pretty good at ruinin’ you. Puttin’ you in your place.”

You finally moan out in pleasure, which makes his face twist in satisfaction.

“Fuckin’ Christ, I’ve missed how tight you are,” He groans, “Squeezin’ my fingers and cock so good.”

You’re practically soaking the couch with how wet you are already. All the build up and smack talk really put you in bind, his fingers driving you absolutely wild. 

He eases out of you, tracing your body to begin lifting off your shirt. He throws your shirt across the room, noticing you were actually wearing a padded bra. You smile at his realization. 

“Found one of these,” You gesture, toying with the straps, “Bet you’d never see the day.”

You had gotten used to never wearing a bra and Joel usually enjoyed it that way. You could never find a comfortable one and all your old ones were ragged and gross. On a recent patrol, you found a red bra in your size in an abandoned home. You stole it, tucking it carefully in your backpack to try on back home. Lucky enough, it fit and made your boobs sit better than they ever have. 

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters, lining the bra with his fingers, “As pretty as it is, it needs to go.”

You reach around your back, undoing it without another word. As soon as it is off, his fingers make work at pebbling your nipples. He smacked one with a gentle open hand. You squeak at the impact, watching Joel’s eyes revel at your bare body. He loved seeing you like this, crumbling under his touch. 

He props himself up on his knee which is wedged between your thighs. He pulls his shirt over his head, discarding it on the coffee table next to him. His buttons are already undone after you found yourself with your hands down his pants, earlier. He pulls those down too, letting them pool around his ankles. 

“For being a brat,” He nudges you, making you move your legs and plant them on the ground. You sit up, his hand ripping you off of your spot on the couch. He positions you between his legs, his cock standing up waiting for you. You sit back on your heels, enjoying the view. 

“You’re gonna try to be a good girl and suck me off.”

You smile eagerily, slowly running your hands up his thighs and to the base of his cock. Instead of getting straight to it, you bring the head of his cock to your lips and kiss it softly. You toy with the idea of completely ignoring his demands, but you come to the conclusion that you’d probably get nothing if you did that. And you wanted him so bad. You thought about this moment for so long. 

“Stop playin’,” He groans, watching you with his arms laying across the back of your couch. He looked like one of those statues you saw in old textbooks when you were a teenager. The ones you’d see at an old art museum scuplted from marble. The ones with the small dicks. That’s truly the only thing that differentiated the two. Joel was massive. 

“I’m not playing,” You disagree, “Shush.”

Before you can continue your tease, he grabs the top of your head. He is usually pretty assertive, but good God, he was not letting you get away with anything. You widen your lips, taking his cock into your mouth. Instead of progressing down his shaft slowly, he makes you take it fully down your throat. It causes you to gag a bit. You pull back, only for him to push you down again. 

You grip onto his thighs, digging your nails in a bit. You knew you would probably leave marks with how hard you were pressing into his skin. He winces, but continues to practically face fuck you. 

“You don’t tell me to shush, little girl,” He moans, watching your saliva drench his cock. He finally lets you pull up off him, holding your face in the process, “You hear me? You take this cock like a good girl.”

“Yes,” You manage to say, your throat already hurting from taking him in. 

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, now come sit on my face.”

You oblige, standing up to let him reposition himself. 

You two have done this maybe twice. Each time you practically suffocated him, but he fucking loved every second of lapping you up. You knew that you were in for a ride with the way he was toying with you. 

He lays on his back, his hands keen on pulling your legs up to his shoulders. Your ass is positioned on his chest, his face between your thighs. You look down at him, sitting up straight before you ease down, letting your pussy take up the bottom half of his face. 

He dives in instantly, his mouth hungrily devouring your pussy. You scream out, letting your body relax against him. His facial hair brushes across your folds and inner thighs while his tongue begins tracing your insides. He stops at your clit, flattening his tongue and pressing forward. You couldn’t control yourself, sinking yourself down further onto him. His nose nudges your folds before he runs his mouth down your slit again, so his nose is now pressed against your clit. He moans into you, the vibrations sending you into ecstasy. 

You cum, your juices flowing down his face and your legs. He is moaning so loud, mewling at the fact that you never warned him you were about to cum. 

He taps your thighs, advising you to get off of him. You shakingly remove yourself from his face, standing up to look down at him. He was so hard and his lips and beard were soaked with your cum. 

“You fuckin’ squirted on me,” He laughs, sitting up. You felt kind of embarrassed, like you couldn’t even contain yourself for more than 2 minutes. “I’ll forgive you since it was hot. No cummin’ without permission.”

“Okay, sorry.” 

Even though you weren’t sorry. 

Your legs were practically numb and still quaking from your orgasm. You’re breathing heavily, trying to regain your composure. He notices your quivering and starts pulling you into his lap. You widen your legs, mounting his thick thighs. You look down at his cock, it sliding so perfectly between your pussy lips. He was a fucking dream. 

He doesn’t even say anything, just watching you try to catch your breath. 

“Relax baby,” He mumbles, “We haven’t even gotten started, yet.”

He grabs his cock, stroking it a bit before having you lift off of his thighs. He eases you up and onto the head of his dick. He spits into his hand, coating his shaft with it.

One thing about Joel, is he’s still the biggest you’ve ever had. No one ever got close to him. 

The stretch makes you moan out in pure euphoria. You missed it so much. It was something you craved almost every night. 

“Fuck,” You whimper, “Never gets old.”

He laughs at your admission, “Likewise.”

He snaps his hips against yours, settling into a slower pace. He was dragging it out, letting your walls become accustomed to him again. After a minute of slow strokes, he picks up his pace. He repositions, kneeling with his one leg extended out to the floor. You’re lifted up in the air partially, grinding down as he meets your motions with his strokes. Your hands are wrapped around his neck, your fingers finding his hair. His hands and grappling at your sides while you two moan in unison. 

You two were finally on the same page, not bickering, just fucking out your feelings. You felt the aggression, resentment, and fear dwindling away from you as you sweat out the brutal pace he’s bringing to the table. 

“I don’t want anyone else,” He sighs in between his cock hitting you at the perfect angle, “I only want this.”

You don’t think to hard about it, whimpering your response. 

“Please let me cum. Please.”

“So pretty when you beg.”

He’s drilling into you at this point, your tits bouncing right into his face. You lazily throw your head back, letting him take one of your nipples into his mouth. You’re so overly sensitive, you don’t know what to say other than beg him to let you release. 

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum.”

He releases your tit with a pop, “Cum for me, baby.”

After two more strokes, you’re falling apart in his arms. He wraps himself around you, fucking you through the second orgasm. 

He’s a whimpering mess, chasing his own release. 

“Fuck, baby, fuck.”

“Cum for me, Joel. Moan out for me.”

His deep and guttral moan sends shockwaves through your body. You could feel his cum release inside you, while his arms grow tighter around you. After he finishes, he lays you back onto the arm of the couch. His cock still rests inside you, twitching at every little movement your hips made. 

He swipes his forehead for sweat, marveling at you. He looks so endearing, like he didn’t just fuck your brains out and call you a bunch of names. The thought makes you giggle.

“What?”

You shake your head, touching his chest with your fingers, “You’re just handsome.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

You swat him while he slowly eases out of you. You whine a bit, letting the heat from the fireplace warm your body as oppose to Joel’s body heat. 

He stands up, abandoning you on the couch as he picks up his discarded clothes. You prop yourself up, trying to sit up but your body feels like jello. 

Your really didn’t want to watch him go. 

“You should stay.”

His back is turned away from you. He freezes as he grabs his shirt from the coffee table where it landed. 

He clears his throat, “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to leave.”

It was true. You wanted to figure it out. You wanted so badly for this to change everything. But it was just sex. Exactly how this trainwreck started. 

He starts to get dressed. You didn’t want to take that as his answer, but deep down you knew this is how things worked. You’d been through it with Joel before. You just had to wait for Ellie to come in and call you his “lady friend” and have him demand you “go get dressed”. It was the same thing every time. You thought it meant something but it really didn’t. 

Once he slips his shirt over his head, he walks back to sit next to your naked frame. He brings his hand up to trace your leg, which is perfectly nudged up against him. 

You really don’t want to believe all the things running through your mind. You craved an explanation.

“You said you only wanted this, Joel,” You grab a blanket from the back of the couch to cover yourself. You could tell he was at war with his thoughts, “Why can’t we start again? Do I seriously not mean anything to you?”

He realizes you’re pleading with him. He felt so guilty and it was written all over his face. 

“Of course you mean somethin’ to me,” He acknowledges, “But we can’t keep doin’ what we were doin’. We always end up screamin’ bout somethin’ stupid. I don’t want to make you unhappy. You deserve to be happy.”

You contemplate for a moment, unsure how to respond. 

“If being with you means screamin’ about something stupid and fighting over patrols and drinking too much and bickering over Ellie’s future,” You huff out, trying to not let the hitch in your throat become obvious, “Then I want it. I want it all. All the shit, all the fights. I want it because it’s with you.”

He doesn’t say anything immediately. The silence was deafening.

“We can try,” He mutters, “But we gotta stop tryin’ to fix everythin’ with sex. We gotta like… talk about things.”

You laugh out loud, noting his seriousness. You two were seriously thinking the same things. 

“Can we talk about our problems, like, during the sex?”

You were completely joking. You wait for his response, but it comes with him shaking his head. You wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him in. Your boobs press against his now clothed chest. You feel his hands slide up and down your sides. You groan in pleasure, his touch sending chills down your spine. You wanted it like this. Forever. 

He clears his throat, “Well if I’m sticking around… round two?”

THE END.

taglist: @pedrotonin @mysingularitybts @harriedandharassed @paleidiot @misatoad @lottieellz101 @cool-iguana @bbyanarchist @am-3-thyst

[corazondebeskar-reads]

you know you never stood a chance - deleted scene #1.5

you know you never stood a chance series

deleted scene #1.5: because you look so fine

series masterlist

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 3.5k

Summary: set in the middle of deleted scene #1 (after Joel & Ellie come home but before you move in with them). Joel's acting weird lately.

Warnings: established relationship, technically spoilers for tlou pt 2 but no one goes golfing, poor communication, p in v, two idiots at the end of the world, fluff, tooth-rotting over the top fluff in the only way two assholes know how, oral (m&f receiving), brief Tommy & Maria cameos, a few butt slaps, good ole southern hospitality, when i started this i meant for joel to play guitar but sadly he does not.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Joel’s been a little weird lately. In a very Joel way.

Or maybe not. You’re not really sure what to think of it.

Ever since that first day when he walked you home from dinner, and you didn’t invite him in, he’s been… awkward.

Or maybe he hasn’t. You don’t really know Joel. It’s a startling realization you had after he left that night.

You lived with him for six months and traveled the country with him, but neither of those were very good representations of him. When you shared the apartment, you only saw him to fuck. You didn’t hang out shooting the shit or have riveting conversations about current events over breakfast.

When you were out of the QZ with him and Tess, there was no talking. Not a single unnecessary word. He and Tess communicated silently. You were on a need-to-know basis and never had a need-to-know.

And those months traveling with Ellie? Well, you’d learned a little more about him, but also, he was under such intense stress that you’re not sure how much was Joel and how much was the situation.

He’s been a lot nicer since he got back to Jackson. Well. Maybe nicer isn’t the right word.

He’s been more talkative and smiled more. Most of the time, when he opens his mouth, though, it’s to be a sarcastic ass.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

And, okay, maybe you do know him.

You decide maybe you’re the one being weird, so you let it go until the weirdness intensifies one Friday night.

Tommy had you both cornered at the mess on Thursday. “So y’all are coming to the Bison tomorrow, right? Ernie came back with a couple of guitars to try to round out the act.”

Joel perks up at this, and you watch him carefully. He’s never seemed interested in whatever goes on at the pub. “They work?”

“They need some love,” Tommy says. “Reckon you might be able to fix ‘em up?”

“Shit,” Joel says, the curse drawn out and low as he thinks. “I might. He gonna let me come ‘n take a look at ‘em?”

“You could probably swing by tonight; see if any of ‘em can be saved.”

Joel eyes your empty plate. “C’mon, I’ll walk ya home first.”

“The Bison is closer than my house,” you say, utterly perplexed by the way this conversation has gone. “I can walk myself.”

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll come back after.”

You think it’s kind of silly but he’s insisted on walking you home every day. Every day that you don’t end up in his bed, anyway.

Every time, he holds your hand. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you let the warm summer silence lead you.

He always kisses you goodnight. Never as chaste as the first time, but never letting it get out of hand, either. He doesn’t ask to come in. He doesn’t try to start anything.

He’s respecting your boundaries, you think, and it’s kind of weird. But good weird.

Tonight, he lingers with his arms draped loose around your hips, holding you close there but letting you lean your upper body back against the siding. He’s got a look on his face that you can’t identify.

After a moment, he narrows his eyes and jostles you a little with one arm. “Gonna come with me to the Bison tomorrow?”

“Since when do you go to Friday Night Live?” you tease.

He scowls. “Since tomorrow.”

“You can’t say since tomorrow; that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, I just said it, didn’t I?” His face twists into something you do recognize.

“Hey,” you pout. “Why’re you mad?”

“M’not mad. Will you stop teasin’ me and answer the question?”

You’re so lost it’s not funny. But now you recognize the first expression. He was defensive.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be a dick. Sure, Joel, if you’re goin’, I’ll come out and see what the fuss is.”

“Don’t gotta try to be something you just are,” he says. There’s a hint of a smirk lurking.

You bite down a smile, rolling your eyes.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ll see ya tomorrow.” He leans down to kiss you.

“Whoa, mister. You already got a goodnight kiss. Getting greedy?”

He bites at your lip. “Hush,” he scolds, helping himself to several kisses. “That one expired. Gotta make it up to me.”

You’re grinning stupidly, now, but so is he. “Alright, you big baby. One more.”

But he stands up straighter and kisses your forehead instead. “G’night,” he murmurs.

As always, he waits until you’re inside with the door locked before he leaves.

You lie awake for too long, tucked in and cozy, but kept up by the colony of butterflies that he seems to have let loose with all that kissing.

You’re getting ready to head down to the Bison when there’s a knock at your door. You’re trying not to think about how weirdly nervous you feel.

It’s probably just from the thought of the crowd. There’s a reason you haven’t bothered to check out the bar. Small spaces and big crowds aren’t your idea of a good time.

Maybe they were, once. You don’t really remember anymore. Now, they remind you of the hangings back in Boston.

And that’s a train of thought you’d like to derail, so the knock is a nice distraction.

When you open the door, it’s Joel.

“Oh, hey. Thought I was meeting you downtown.”

“Figured I’d walk with ya,” he says. The words are almost mumbled, and he stands stiff just outside the door.

“Alright, gimmie a few, I was just gonna change.”

“Y’ain’t gotta do that, you look nice,” he says.

You raise your eyebrows. “Thanks?” And you gesture to where a pot of tomato soup had spilled down the side of your tee and then splattered across the bottom of your jeans when it hit the floor.

“Right,” he says.

“You can come in,” you say before heading up to your room.

You spend more time than you’d like picking something to wear. It’s those damn crowds, maybe, making you feel like you need to look nice.

In the end, though, you just pull on a clean tee and jeans with a flannel you’d nicked from Joel when you were out on the road. He hadn’t said anything about it so you figured he never even noticed. It helps, fortifying you against whatever’s making your heart beat out of your chest.

When you get back down, he’s standing in your kitchen. You stare, trying to force your brain to reboot and accept the image of him looming in your space.

He’s got a glass of water in one hand and the other wrapped tight over the edge of the basin.

“You okay?” you say.

He clears his throat and turns around. “Yeah, just needed this,” he gestures with the drink. “For, uh, for these.”

You blink a few times. There are flowers clutched in his other hand, stems trimmed to fit neatly inside.

“Okay,” you say with a shrug.

He sets the glass, now full of purple and yellow blossoms, on the counter.

“We better get going before Tommy sends a search party,” you tease, grabbing him by the belt loops. He lets you pull yourself in, leaning up for a kiss.

It’s syrupy, and his hands come to your waist so he can lick into your mouth, drawing soft moans from you both.

“There’s the hello I was lookin’ for,” he says. He looks you up and down. “Y’look real pretty, sweetheart.”

“You need your eyes checked, old man.” You move to the door, and he follows, waiting while you stuff your feet into your boots without bothering to untie them.

“Sure, let me just call the optometrist,” he rolls his eyes. “You know I like you in my clothes.” He’s patient while you lock the door, but as soon as your key is stowed in your pocket, he’s got your hands wrapped together.

It’s not until you’re sitting in the bar at a round table with Tommy and Maria that the gears finally come to a stop, and everything falls into place.

Joel’s dragged his chair to butt up against yours, and he’s got an arm slung around your shoulder. You’re leaning against him, talking to Maria about the equipment one of the patrol teams had found at an abandoned farm when your brain shorts out.

Of course, you don’t even get a second to process the thought before it spills from your mouth.

“Joel Miller,” you snap, sitting up and looking at him incredulously. “Is this a date?”

He pulls back a little, eyes wide and brows raised. “Yeah,” he says slowly, like he’s not the one that tricked you into this.

“Were you going to tell me?”

“I…” he looks wildly at Tommy and then back to you. “I thought you knew.”

“Let’s go get some drinks,” Maria says quietly. Her husband doesn’t get the hint, and she has to hiss in his ear about privacy before yanking him away from the table.

“You thought I knew? How would I have known?”

“I’ve been courtin’ ya for weeks,” he says, scowling. “Didn’t think I needed to spell it out for ya.”

“You’ve been what?”

He flushes a little but stands his ground. “Courtin’ ya. Y’know.”

“What are you talking abo—oh. Oh.” A lot of things are starting to make more sense. The flowers. The hand holding. The sweet partings. The way he pulls out your chair at the table.

“What the hell are you doin’ that for?”

He huffs a breath, arms folding across his chest. “Well, never mind.”

You take a deep breath, but it catches, stuttering in the suddenly humid room. “Can we talk about this outside?”

He must see it on your face because he puts a worried hand on your shoulder to steer you through the crowd.

Once in the open, soothed by the slightly cooler breeze, you cover your face with both hands.

“Joel,” you start.

“I was just tryin’ to do right by you this time around,” he tells the patch of grass under his boots.

You can’t help but smile just a little bit. “That’s sweet, but I don’t need you to do all that.”

He looks up at you, mouth still twisted down. But you see it for what it is again. Worry.

“You don’t have to try so hard, Joel; you already know I’m a sure thing.”

“I’m not just tryin’ to fuck you,” he snaps. His hands are clenched into fists, and he won’t look at you now. “I’m tryin’ to… I’m tryin’ to show you—”

You step closer, and he doesn’t shy away, but he does shut his mouth. You wrap your fingers back around his belt loops. “I know,” you say. “But I don’t need all that. I just need you. Just you.”

“I’m no good at this,” he grumbles.

“At what?”

“At… this,” he puts his hands on your hips. “At bein’… at relationships,” he finishes. His ears are red. “Never was.”

“Me neither,” you say. “But I’ve only had the one back before. You coulda lied and pretended to be a pro, and I’d never have known.”

He rolls his eyes and kisses the top of your head. “Just, are you… do you want to be—“

“Joel Miller, are you asking me to go steady?” you grin a little wickedly. “You wanna be my boyfriend? My boo? My beau?”

“Christ,” he says, wiping a hand down his face and groaning. He takes your hand and tugs, heading down the street.

You let him pull you along, still giggling and throwing everything you can think of at him as he weaves through the streets.

“You gonna call me shawty? Gonna make me your girl?”

He stops, and you run smack into him. “Yeah,” he says.

“What?” You hadn’t even realized you’d made it to his house, but he crowds you against it just to the side of the door. “You wanna call me shawty?” You can’t say you expected that.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna make you my girl,” he says. His voice is low, with his head tucked close enough that his breath brushes your ear. One hand is on your hip, and the other is pushing the door open and sliding the key back into his pocket.

Shit, that was smooth.

“What? Ain’t got nothin’ smart to say now?”

You open your mouth, but only a squeak comes out, so you shut it and shake your head.

“Yeah? You wanna be my girl?”

Your throat’s so dry, you think you’d never had water, so you just nod a little, looking up at him through your lashes.

He smirks and kisses you, hands roaming as he walks you backward into the house. When he pushes you down onto the bed, you realize you don’t even remember climbing the stairs.

Or taking off your pants.

He makes quick work of your shirts and bra but then pulls the flannel back on you. You roll your eyes, but it quickly becomes involuntary when he runs a finger across your slit.

“Aw, sweetheart. You’re all wet. Somethin’ got you all worked up?”

But you aren’t so far gone yet that you can’t bite back.

“Yeah, turns out this hot guy has a huge crush on me, but he was too scared to ask me out. A shame, really.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Well, I really wanted to suck his dick, but I don’t date chickens.”

“Well, that’s just not very nice. You’re hurtin’ my feelings, sweetheart.”

“Big tough guy like you?”

His fingers brush against your clit for little more than a second before he pulls his hand away. “Yeah, I reckon you’re going to have to make it up to me.”

He stands up straight. “Get to it.”

You grin and bring your hands up to his belt, taking your sweet time to drag the end from the loop and tug it away from the buckle. You flick the prong back just as he growls his impatience.

He tugs it out of the loops and tosses it on the ground as you slip the button loose and drag the pull down the teeth of his zipper one by one.

He grabs your chin, fingers digging dimples into your smug grin. “Think you’re bein’ cute, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to do a good job.”

“Gotta have it in your mouth to do a good job, sweetheart. I taught you how to suck dick better than this.”

He smirks when your eyes darken and you whimper a little at the memory. He lets go of your jaw and shoves two thick fingers in your mouth.

When he pulls them back out, he shows you how wet they are. “You’re fuckin’ droolin’ for it, sweetheart.”

“Uh huh,” you mumble. But your fingers are nimbler, making deft work of the zipper and tugging his pants down.

When his cock springs free, you waste no time swallowing it down. Damn. You had meant to drag it out and tease him.

“See? Ain’t that better?” He strokes your cheek before cupping the back of your head. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

You moan and look up at him through your lashes. He groans and pushes you down on his cock until your nose is buried in the thicket of hair at the base.

“Yeah? You feel pretty with my cock in your mouth?” His other hand cups under your jaw, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “My pretty girl,” he murmurs.

There’s a foreign ache in your chest. You use it to distract you while you choke on him, letting him fill your throat and mind.

He fucks you like that for a few minutes, pulling out abruptly. “Hands ‘n knees, sweetheart.”

You obey immediately, though you settle on your elbows instead, a pillow tucked between your arms and head. He gropes at your ass, squeezing and rubbing his hands over it before he gives it a few firm smacks.

As if he can sense the complaint you’re about to make, he spreads you apart and buries his face in your cunt. You forget all about your impatience—you may still yearn for his cock, but his tongue is a hell of a consolation prize.

He’s fucking ravenous. He nuzzles in—you’re absolutely going to have beard burn—and devours. Two fingers pump in and out of your cunt while he licks around and in, and you can’t really tell where he ends, and you begin. It’s all so wet and rough and blissful that you reach your orgasm in no time at all.

But he pulls away, yanking himself from you with heaving breath while you cry out in disappointment.

“Beg,” he growls, slapping your ass before starting to build you up again.

You do. You beg endlessly, pleas and whines and praise spilling from your lips, broken by gasps and cries, but when you’re close, he pulls away again.

He kisses your swollen labia when you nearly sob in frustration.

“Mean,” you peek over your shoulder at him so he can see your wet eyes and exaggerated pout.

“Yeah,” he smirks. “Just like you were earlier, teasin’ me.”

You gasp. “I made it up to you!”

He scoffs. “Yeah, but ya woulda sucked my cock anyway.”

Damn. He’s not wrong. That was as much for you as it was for him.

He’s stroking your clit gently, now, and you’re having a hard time keeping your brains in a line. Or ducks. Whatever it is, they’re not doing a very good job because you can’t remember what you’re mad about.

“Please,” you whimper.

“Please, what, sweetheart? You need my tongue back?”

“Yes—fuck,” you gasp as he stuffs three fingers in your cunt.

“Hmm. Better apologize.”

“I’m sorry!” you say immediately.

He shakes his head. “Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry I was teasing you, please, god-fucking—”

He’s sucking on your clit, pistoning his fingers hard enough that it almost matches the way his cock knocks your brain out.

Finally, finally, he doesn’t pull away. When you reach the edge, abdomen seizing, he works you through it and doesn’t stop until you’re whimpering on the other side.

He stands up, and you’d complain, but you’re too fucked out. Plus, he’s fully out of his jeans now, and all you have to do is stay like this, on your knees with your ass in the air.

He fists himself and drags the head up and down, parting you minutely but never slipping in. “Goddamn, you’re drippin’ for me.”

Your face is smushed into the pillow, but your moan is loud enough for him to hear.

“Whose cunt is this, sweetheart?”

“Wha?” you mumble.

He slaps your ass. “I said, whose pretty little cunt is this?”

“Yours, Joel.”

“And whose girl are you?”

You moan. “Yours, Joel.”

“That’s damn right.” He slams hard into you. “Say it.”

“I’m yours, Joel. I’m your girl.”

“Fuck yeah you are,” he grunts, thrusting deep on each go, barely pulling out only to slam right in. “And I’m all yours, sweetheart.”

You’re embarrassed about it later when he teases you, but his words make you cum.

“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, cum on my cock. Just how I like it.”

His hand rubs over your lower back as he talks you through it, and it spills over into another orgasm as you clench and shake around him.

His mouth is filthy tonight, peppered with the grunts and moans you love to soak in. His hands never leave you. Eventually, he stops to roll you over and fucks into you with your knees bent up to your chest. Your fingers dig into his arms desperately as the force of his thrusts knock the air out of you over and over and over.

“Fuck, sweetheart, cup your tits for me,” he pants, pulling out and holding his cock at the base while it weeps, and when you obey, he tugs once, twice, before covering them in his cum.

“Shit,” he says, chest heaving as he catches himself on one arm near your head, hovering over you. “Shit, sweetheart. So good to me.”

He lowers himself onto his side next to you and traces an idle finger through the mess on your chest.

“Did you just fucking write your name in cum on my tits?”

“No,” but he doesn’t tell you what he did write.

He kisses you instead, and you roll your eyes but kiss him back.

You wait until after he’s cleaned you both off and settled back in bed beside you.

“So what’s it gonna be? You gonna call me boo or babe? Or babycakes?”

He rolls his eyes. “Will you knock it off?”

“No,” you admit.

“‘Sides, I ain’t gotta come up with somethin’.”

You pour. “Why not? What if I want a cutesy nickname?”

He rolls onto his side and looks you in the eye. “Already call ya sweetheart, don’t I?”

You flush, heart stuttering. “Oh yeah,” you whisper.

“Good enough for ya?”

“Uh-huh,” you say. “It’s perfect… sweetcheeks.”

His pillow smacks you in the face, and you cackle.

*title from "Are You Gonna Be My Girl" by Jet

[jaydenix]

20 years on, Sokka is still one of the best male role models in all of media

We need more young men written like him

What's there not to love about Sokka? As ATLA's resident comic relief guy, crazy shit that happens to him is always a good laugh. He's full of himself and overconfident which combined with a stellar voice acting performance by Jack DeSena makes for a very fun character. But one of the most intriguing things about him is his relationship with manhood.

Sokka begins the show very close-minded on the subject of gender, he believes he's just innately better than woman (especially Katara) because he is a man. At this point he thinks he's on top of the world and he knows everything. After all, he has been put in a great position of power in protecting his tribe after the men left to fight. For what his world currently is his quite on top of things, but his world is about to expand 100 times over.

Once Aang arrives he's tasked with coming along with him and and his sister to head to the North Pole, but early on they arrive on Kyoshi Island and meet the Kyoshi Warriors, this is what begins to break down his superiority complex where he challenges his later girlfriend Suki to a fight and she fucks up his shit. This causes him to unravel what he believes about gender, that he is better than women because he is a man. But his adventure with becoming a man has only just begun.

Throughout the rest of the show, we uncover more about Sokka having to be left behind by his father, he was just barely not old enough to go away to fight and that hurt him real bad, he feels his ability to fight made him a man, but this robbed right out from under him due to his age. Though having spent 2 years stuck without seeing his father and having spent several months out flying around on a bison taking on the Fire Nation, of course he becomes way stronger and way smarter perhaps not dissimilar to how he would've done if he was able to go off and fight 2 years prior. Eitherway, when he finally sees his father and the men of the Southern Water Tribe again at the end of book 2, he's understandably incredibly nervous because he's unsure of how they'll respond. He's left wondering whether they will see him as a man? And of course, they all do, they shake his hand and one of them is comparing heights as he's gotten a lot bigger, he's now an equal to them. They left him a boy, but they reunited with a man. And the classic moment where Hakoda says to him "aren't you listening? I said the rest of you men get ready for battle" like FUCK yeah man Hakoda doesn't even give a second thought here to his son's manhood he just knows his boy is all grown up I love him.

Now, you all know this, so why am I talking about it? Well, Sokka is such an incredibly positive representation of masculinity: his journey to manhood doesn't involve being better or putting down women or anyone for that matter. It even challenges him on this when he thinks thats what it involves. Being a man to him is knowing where you're needed the most, and he fulfils that by trying to bring about peace in the world and helping his friends and others. This is what masculinity should be.

It seems right now a lot of young men are being radicalised into far-right red-pill ideologies which promote masculinity as mistreatment of others. How on earth do we solve this issue to prevent men diving head first into the brazen misogyny of people like Andrew Tate? I don't know, but a lot of people are increasingly frustrated with hardships in this modern world and look for some kind of scapegoat. Now, don't get me wrong, it's really easy to not be a flaming misogynist, and the grievances that the MRA/manosphere lobby enjoy highlighting like idk men being more lonely supposedly? Or not being able to find "ideal" partners because of the woke anti-men feminism mob or whatever? Whereas feminists point to you know things like rape? And abortion restriction? And domestic violence? Real actual issues that affect millions of women all over the world every single day? Undoubtedly I think a lot of men need to do a bit more critical thinking. But perhaps a small part of solving this problem might just be more shows and movies and media portraying young men like Sokka who learn to embrace a non-toxic and healthy form of masculinity. Maybe this will help even just a few young boys not be pulled into these dangerous ideas as they have their own independent idea of how to be a man that was guided through well written and interesting characters. Though of course there's a lot more to it as well, this is just one thing I've thought of.

"One is not born, but becomes a woman" is a common quote thrown around in feminism, and to me Sokka is the perfect example of someone who wasn't born, but became a man through his own good actions.

👏 More 👏 Young 👏 Men 👏 Like 👏 Sokka 👏 Please 👏

[tekkenenjoyerblue]

“You can’t win me I can’t be beat. I won’t hurt you unless you cheat~”

In which I listened to Cabinet Man one too many times and stayed up far too late for my own good

[camryntheking]

Season 5 reaction

5x01 and Buck and Eddie are already acting like a married couple lmao. But i can understand where the panic attack Eddie had came from. Buck is now just like a concerned husband

5x02 and Clipboard Buck! I love Clipboard Buck! And naturally the way to Buck’s heart is through the kids in his life. He is so precious. And he immediately picked up on Eddie’s panic when Ravi assumed Ana was Eddie’s wife. And then in the firetruck when Buck is talking about the zoo we learn that Buck takes Chris there all the time. Buck is Chris’ dad, and no one can tell me otherwise lol. And Eddie looks so proud. And Bobby is such a dad. Love him. And him and Athena are so cute together

Also, Eddie breaking up with Ana? That scene was also done well. And Eddie acknowledged that he was stringing her along, which is great. Terrible that he did it, but great that he admitted to it

And i just wanna point out that Kenny is such an amazing actor. The emotion he conveys during this whole arc of Maddie leaving is just… whew. 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻. Also, i should have known that Buck knew. I do get Chim’s frustration. The punch shocked me ngl. But, i can see why he did it. I dont think punching was the answer, but like i said. I see why it happened. And naturally Eddie is the one he calls for help the next day. They are husbands your honor

5x05. I LOVE RAVI. “Probie, if you’re gonna vomit do it somewhere else.” “Copy!” *Scurries off.* I love him lmao

And Buck’s panic in 5x06 when he hears the gun shot. He immediately feared that Eddie had been shot again and ran out as fast as he could. And Bobby getting breakfast with Ravi 😭. I love Dad Bobby moments. And speaking of dads, Eddie and Chris 🥹. He loves his kid so much and my heart cant handle it

And Michael wanting to propose to David in 5x08!! The whole montage of the rings and outfits is so funny and i love them so much. And im so happy David said yes!!

The scene in 5x09 where May walks into Bobby and Athena is also fucking hilarious. And Bobby’s little shuffle to the bedroom is just so quirky. And then when he goes “why does this keep happening to you?” Then interrupts Buck and says “No. I’m gonna tell you why.” Bobby is Buck’s dad and i love him so much for it

And later Buck called Eddie out for watching telenovelas and it was so domestic. And Eddie was eating up the drama between Clive and Toni. He just loves it lol. And the episode made me dislike Taylor less. But i really feel like Buck said The Words just cos she did. I dont feel like they were genuine. That might just be me tho

Then in 5x10, Eddie is decorating with Chris and he is just doing as Chris says cos he wants him to be happy and im just melting. This man loves his kid so much and it just makes me so happy. Then Hen’s “baby’s first Christmas” comment to Buck made me chuckle, then I got distracted by the Appa plushie that someone handed Bobby. I love my flying bison sm. And Taylor asked Bobby if Buck would like the sweaters! Everyone knows that Bobby is Buck’s dad! And later Eddie is talking to Buck about Chris’ nightmare. Husbands. They both love their kid so much

Eddie looks so miserable at the beginning of 5x11 ☹️. Baby boy just wants to be fighting fires with his boyfriend. But dinner with Eddie, Chris, Buck, and Taylor kinda surprised me honestly. But ig it makes sense. “You dont need to pretend with me.” Ok. Imma cry now. Thats so sweet wtf. But he misses the 118 and feels left out and i feel for him. Also, drunk Buck is so funny lmao. And Hen is like another sister.

I can understand that Eddie is frustrated that Bobby isn’t letting him back into the 118 yet, but bringing up Bobby’s past like that was totally uncalled for

Im glad that Buck finally told Taylor about the kiss in 5x13, but i didnt even think about how he was kinda trapping her so she couldnt leave, which is. Not great. But i guess they are wanting to work through it so thats good. But the ending with Eddie’s breakdown made me wanna cry. He is going through so much and he wants to get better but he keeps hitting rough patches. But having Buck there to support him and Chris is so sweet and i love that Buck is willing to have those hard convos with Eddie.

And the breakfast scene in 5x14 with Chris and Eddie? These two have a special place in my heart and i cannot handle it lmao. And of course i type that only for it to be a nightmare 😭. But father figure Bobby also has my heart. And the scene with the heart drawings. So domestic

And Karen in 5x15 is so cute. “To catch a thief!” I love her lmao. And Eddie is learning from therapy! Im so proud of him! And Buck was giving total puppy energy during the wedding call. I love him so much.

And in 5x16 Bobby called May his kid!! Excuse me while i cry. And the Eddie/Linda friendship is just so, idk, refreshing? Idk if that is a good word for it but i really like the idea of him being friends with everyone at dispatch. My boy needs to get out there lol. Josh is also such a flustered homosexual and like. Me too. And Eddie was so ready to be back in firefighter mode. Buck being completely clueless about what to not say to a patient then Eddie just. Shaking his head. And May calls Bobby her dad 😭😭😭

5x17: Buck messing with Chris’ dinosaur while Eddie is packing, man there is just something so domestic about it. And the Chim and Hen friendship is so funny i love it so much. And i just really dislike Taylor. Also i know that we call Buck the golden retriever, but Eddie looked like such a kicked puppy when we was talking to his dad. But im glad they had a conversation and they want to do better

5x18: Im glad to see Eddie acknowledging how bottling things up isnt good, even if its in his joking manner. “I dont have your bone structure. I could never pull it off.” Bro im DEAD. Thats so funny to me. And my boy Ravi. Talking about having a partner is about knowing that they will have your back. Buck, takes notes. Cos who’s back did you promise to have? Hmm?? Then Buck talks about partners being at their lowest together and still working together and growing together. If that isnt foreshadowing idk what is. And Eddie is back at the 118!! Obviously i knew it was gonna happen but im still happy

And thats that for season 5! I dont really have any other additional thoughts, just that with things that happened in season 7, it just feels like there was some foreshadowing for Buddie. But i think we all know that

As always, feel free to discuss!

[tieronecrush]

cool about it

joel miller x f!reader

(part II of water in your hands)

rating: E (18+ ONLY, MDNI)

word count: 14k (i'm sorry, please grab a snack or some water or read it in stages!!)

summary: I'm trying to be cool about it / Feelin' like an absolute fool about it / Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

You and Joel have been together secretly for months now, sneaking around behind his wife’s back. He hasn’t made a move to break it off with her, and at this point, you aren’t sure if he ever will. That is until he’s forced to face his problems, and you’re left with all the guilt.

warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, adultery/infidelity, marriage, age difference (joel is in his 50s, reader is 20s/30s), use of pet names, mentions of water/drowning, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), one instance of spitting/drooling, praising, undefined relationship turned committed relationship, slightly possessive joel & reader, alcohol use, ANGST, hurt/comfort, separation, degrading language (homewrecker, slut, mistress, etc.), self-deprecation/insecurity

series spotify playlist / apple music

a/n: thank you to everyone who requested a part 2!! i really love these two even though i make them suffer BUT i would LOOOVE to write some more little stories for them so drop any requests in my inbox! i don’t wanna say goodbye to them just yet :(

dividers from @saradika

It was a rare occurrence for your shift to line up with Joel’s. Lately, he’d be working early mornings or overnights, and you would be afternoons or evenings at the bar. Today, however, is a gift from the universe. He’d been assigned a handful of shifts that ended in the afternoon, and for some reason, Tommy scheduled you early to come deep clean and organize the back bar and stock room for the Tipsy Bison. Joel and you could see each other in the light of day, for maybe only the sixth or seventh time in the months that you have been sneaking around with each other.

He walks straight into the unlocked doors of the bar, an eager grin on the side of his face when he sees you. He beelines for you as you stand in front of the counter, wiping it down.

“Mmm, been thinkin’ about you my whole shift, sugar. Even got a little distracted with you on my mind - got yelled at to keep it moving at one point,” his voice is a little hoarse from booking it over here from the stables, slightly sweaty arms wrapping around your waist and flexing as they squeeze you tight and turn you around, “Was just itchin’ to get over here.”

His lips find that spot under your ear that sends goosebumps over your skin every time, a playful smirk pulling the corners of your mouth up. Your hands rest against the plaid flannel covering his arms, the added warmth necessary for the early spring weather. It reminds you of what he’d been wearing a year ago when he’d started settling into Jackson; sleeves rolled up to show off the delicious veins that bulge when he was working hard. The thought gets you a little light-headed and you take a quick breath to calm your racing mind.

“Well, can’t blame me for you being horny. Gotta keep it in your pants on patrol, sir.” Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes shine with a tease as you watch Joel’s eyebrows shoot up keenly at your statement and the polite title.

“I think I can blame you. ‘Specially when you’re the one calling me sir.” His eyes darken with hunger - and the knowledge that you’re going to be the one to satiate it. His arms loosen from their tight hold around your waist, large hands skimming down your back to grab at the cushion of your ass greedily.

“Did you only come to get something from me, Miller? I think I should be offended that you didn’t just want to visit me.”

“Oh, darlin’, y’know I came here to just get a glimpse of that pretty face to keep me going for the day. But then I got one look at you, and you just always do somethin’ to me. Can’t ever get enough of you.” His lips attach to the notch where your jaw meets your neck, teeth grazing skin as he works his mouth down to your collar. He hooks two fingers in your shirt there, pulling it back to reveal the blossoming purple mark that he had left the other night when the two of you were glued to each other in your bed. It was his parting gift as the sun rose, the usual warning sign for him to get back home.

“Can I give you another, sweet girl? Or maybe a couple? And you can wear one of those cute little tank tops next shift. Gotta let those gawking boys know you belong to someone.” His low, syrupy twang sends humidity across your exposed skin. Your head tilts back involuntarily, hands gripping his forearms that rest against your hips, his hands still palming your ass.

“You can give me as many as you want. Just wish I could you some.” Your gaze moves down to meet Joel’s eyes, the slightest pout on your face that pulls him away from your collarbone. He looks at you tenderly, one hand leaving your backside to brush your hair back from your face with care.

“I know, darlin’. I wish you could, too.” His thumb rubs against one of your cheekbones, and your eyes close to focus on the touch and feel the weight of his words. He still hasn’t told you those three words that you give him all the time, still never crossing that line.

The cool metal of his wedding band stings your face when he slips his hand down your cheek and along the nape of your neck as if the universe was sending you a quick reminder about who he was promised to.

“You wanna get out of here, sweet girl? We’ve got a few hours just to ourselves.” Your eyes open again at the sound of his voice, a soft smile spreading his lips as he speaks. He gets a mischievous glint in his eye, eyebrows wagging as his large hands slip into the back pockets of your jeans, giving one strong squeeze.

“Maybe we can have a little afternoon delight? Hmm?” He looks genuinely pleased with his cheeky suggestion, and you can’t help but chortle at the horny teenager energy he’s got.

“Play your cards right, Miller, and maybe you can have a little treat.” You wink at him, opening your mouth again to send another quip, only to be taken by surprise as he captures your lips in a fervent kiss. His tongue licks into your mouth, your front pressing tightly against his to the point where you can feel him half-hard against your thigh.

You pull away from the heated kiss, tsking quietly as you pull his hands off of you.

“We won’t ever make it out of here if you keep that up. And that isn’t ideal for either of us.”

Joel groans, the end of the sound hitching up into a soft whine.

“Fine, fine. You’re right. But I can’t fucking wait any longer. Been waiting all morning…” He trails off in thought, his eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Just come to mine. It’s closer.”

“Yeah, by only like 100 feet, Joel. And what if Heather’s home, hmm? How are you gonna explain your hard dick and me likely bent over whatever surface is closest to the front door?” Your arms cross over your front, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“She’s teaching today. She’ll be at school all afternoon. C’mon, it’ll be fine. Never get to have you in my bed.”

It’s not just your bed, you think to yourself. Your stomach turns a bit at the not-so-friendly reminder from your conscience. Your eyes flick down to the ring on his left hand, a sigh escaping as you study the shine of the metal before meeting his eyes once more. You could see the eagerness in them, the want. He wasn’t going to let it go, and you knew if you kept arguing it would end up with him propositioning that it’s either here in the bar or the privacy of his house.

“Okay. We’ll go to yours. But it’d better be a quick one.”

Joel smirks devilishly, hands grabbing at your body. He pulls you away from the counter, fishing out his house keys from the front pocket of his jeans.

“You’re gonna be changing that tune once I get you inside, darlin’. Gonna want to take your time.”

Decision made, Joel left out of the bar first to get a head start back home. Finishing up with your last tasks quickly, you closed up and started down your shared street, sending friendly waves to neighbors as you made your way. You came up with an excuse in your head as to why you were walking up to Joel’s door, just in case an overly curious bystander wanted to be nosy.

You send three quick knocks against the wood, peering in through the small glass windows in the door to see Joel making his way over from the kitchen. He grins sweetly when he opens the door, inviting you in. To an outsider, it all seemed to be a perfectly normal, neighborly exchange. Perhaps you were going to catch up over coffee or Joel was helping you out by getting you a tool to borrow.

Little do they know what he was really about to give you.

It was an awkward exchange at first, Joel stumbling around his words as he gave you a sort-of tour while leading you upstairs. You’d been in his house before, invited in by Ellie when she needed help with a gardening project for school and she’d come to you for advice based on the flora in your front lawn. You’d even been there when he and his wife were there, canoodling on the couch. It stung, seeing him laughing and holding her close. Nearly made you snap the pencil you were holding in your hand as you read over Ellie’s project plan.

But now you were here, alone, and he wanted you in his own bed. Their bed. Their literal marital bed.

It gave you a rush of anxiety as he pushed open the door to the room, turning towards you as you give the space a once over. You ignored the touches of her in the room — the throw pillows around the bed, the perfume on the dresser vanity, and clothes hanging slightly out of the hamper. Instead, you focus on the little details of him that you were finally privy to.

A novel on his nightstand, The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemmingway, the small ceramic dish that he now discards his wedding ring in, the owl mug that holds his morning coffee, smatterings of clothes around his side of the room. It all feels very comfortable, reminding you of pieces that you get of him in your own space. These touches of him give you a sense of home and safety; it all feels very Joel.

He pulls you out of your observations, your eyes meeting his lustful gaze. He towers over you, hands holding the sides of your jaw to tilt your head back. He slants his lips against yours, a light kiss turning salacious with want. Your hands find the waistband of his jeans, tugging lightly while his tongue dances with yours. Soft moans escape with the breaths you both take, and he peels away from your lips to pull your t-shirt over your head, mouth attacking your collarbone to leave more marks as he had promised earlier. Your head tilts, eyes opening for a split second when he bites a bit harder. His tongue soothes the nip, but you still feel the tinge of pain when your eyes lock onto the lacy panties haphazardly discarded near the hamper. You can’t look away, bile burning your throat as your mind gives you an image of the two of them together, of Joel enjoying anyone but you. The thought of those not belonging to you and being for him makes jealousy canker across your heart. A new determination is shocked through you - you want to give him a memory of you being the one pleasing him in this room, for him to think about whenever he has his wife in the same position. You wanted him to be moaning your name, praising you, being under your spell, even for a moment.

Pressing your hands against his strong chest, you push him back with a step. His head shoots up from your collar with surprise, a little smirk pulling at his lips. His eyebrows raise in question as you push him to the end of the bed, hands gripping his broad shoulders and maneuvering him to sit. Eager hands find your hips, grazing over to your ass as he looks up at you standing over him.

“Whatcha wanna do, baby? You wanna ride me, hmm?” His voice is lecherous, dripping with desire and satisfaction over you taking some control.

You shake your head at him, bending down in just your bra to pop open the button of his jeans and slide the zipper down as it strains against his bulge. He buries his face in the exposed skin of your breasts that are now eye level, humming contently.

He lets you work his jeans down to his mid-thighs, cock springing free. He still never bothered with underwear most of the time despite the slow, normal life he’d adjusted to in Jackson.

You keep eye contact as you kneel in front of him, his keen stare unblinking as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. You settle in front of him between his legs, hand wrapping around him and stroking slowly. He looked down at you with hooded eyes, mouth opening in a small gasp at the languid stimulation. A rush of saliva floods your mouth at the thought of tasting the beads of pre-cum that were starting to trickle out of his swelling length.

Giving into your bodily reactions, you lean in and press hot, open-mouthed kisses against the soft skin. Your thumb brushes against his tip, a hiss of pleasure sounding from above. One of Joel’s hands finds the back of your head, tangling fingers into your hair. He doesn’t move to guide you, simply wanting to touch a part of you.

Your free hand gently cups his balls as you press a featherlight kiss to the tip of his hard cock. A kitten-lick swipes up the dribbles of pre-cum that have collected and Joel’s fingers tense against your strands. You hum satisfied with the reactions you’re drawing from him, looking up to see splotches of redness growing across his cheeks and neck at the frustration. He groans out your name as your mouth works to tease him more, not having taken him fully in.

“Fucking hell, baby, quit teasin’.” Joel rasps as he watches your methodical seduction. He applies the smallest pressure against the back of your head when your lips finally wrap around just the tip of him, a moan of relief rolling from his chest.

Your eyes stay glued on his face, relishing in every response that he’s having to your mouth working him. Your head starts a slow bob up and down, growing wet at the weight of him on your tongue. You focus on half of him with your mouth, your hand working what isn’t inside. His noises grow louder and in quicker succession, his cheeks visibly warm and eyes dark with a craving when he looks down at you again.

“Such a sweet girl. Look so pretty with my cock in your little mouth. Think you can take more, baby? Think I can fit in your throat?” His words flood your panties, feeling the fabric stick uncomfortably against you. You shift in your position slightly, a sigh exhaling as your thighs rub together to relieve some of your ache.

The rhythm of your head brings his cock deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. You swallow around him and it squeezes him just right, a loud moan coming from him above you. He loses some of his composure, the large hand at the back of your head pushing him down your throat further and causing you to gag. Tears spill from your eyes and spit drips from the sides of your mouth, the blow job quickly turning sloppy as Joel takes more control.

“Fucking hell, darlin’. Taking me so well on your own, being such a good girl for me. You gonna let me fuck your mouth?”

The two of you are tunnel-visioned on each other, with no thoughts in your head except for getting Joel to come down your throat and no thoughts in his other than the sight of you taking his cock in your mouth. Had the two of you sensed anything happening in the house, it might have saved you.

Heather, Joel’s wife, returned home on her lunch break, hoping to run into her husband when she grabbed something to eat quickly. She heard the familiar timbre of Joel’s voice coming from upstairs, not making out any words at first. She climbed the stairs, the sound becoming clearer. Joel was definitely there, but he wasn’t alone. Wet sounds accompanied his pleasured moans, her ears perking up when she stands next to the closed door and hears him ask to fuck the mouth of whoever he’s with. Rage burns, the handle twisting and the door flying open. She’s greeted with you kneeling in front of Joel, his eyes trained on you with a lustful tenderness, mouth agape in awe.

The sound of the door smacking against the wall brings Joel’s attention away from the way you're taking the slow thrusts of his hips as he fucks your face. Immediately, he sees his wife standing in the doorway, shock, anger, and betrayal evident in her expression. His stomach rolls with anxiety, working quickly to push you off of him gently, tossing the throw blanket from the end of the bed in your direction to cover up. He scrambles to shove his still-hard dick back into his jeans and zips them up quickly, hands shamefully covering the bulge as he stands.

His mouth opens to try to excuse the pornographic sight that his wife’s just witnessed, but his brain is coming up empty. His eyes just shoot back and forth between the woman in the doorway wearing his ring and you, standing up from your knees with the blanket around your shoulders and a look of panic in your eyes. His hand twitches to reach for you, to comfort you, and his heart cracks at the glossiness in your eyes when you turn away from him.

The only sound to come is from his wife, her voice flat and resolute as she speaks directly to you.

“Please, get your shirt back on and go home.” She’s calm and resolute, with no malice in her voice as she demands you from her home. You oblige willingly and quickly, grabbing your top from the floor and slipping it over your head. You discard the blanket politely back on the bed, making eye contact with Joel one last burning time before turning to scurry out and back to your place across the street like a reprimanded child. Tears sting your eyes as you exit, the insides of you feeling like a storm at sea, uncertainty of what happens next for you and Joel thrashing around in your gut.

Back inside their shared home, Joel is still at the end of the bed. The situation has shriveled his arousal, the bulge in his jeans no more as his wife stares him down with indignance. She turns on her heel, a silent command for him to follow her as she makes her way downstairs. He climbs down the stairs petulantly, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for her to start screaming at him. He can’t find the energy to fight back if she does; he’d take it if it finally freed him of the mess that was his own creation.

Heather motions for him to sit in one of the wooden kitchen chairs; she leans back against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest. He plops down into the hard seat, a quiet sigh exhaled as he leans back, bracing himself for what is bound to ensue.

“Was this the first time?” Heather asks, voice steady, composed. Her eyes finally look at him, nothing given away from the empty stare in them.

He thinks about lying to spare her feelings, but the thought of continuing to suffer through sneaking around to be with you guides him into an honest answer. He’s going to give her the whole truth.

“No. No, this wasn’t the first time.”

“How long?”

He hesitates, the truth burning his throat as he prepares to confess that he’s never been a faithful husband, not when it came to you.

“Since the week after we got married.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel. Are you fucking kidding?”

He shakes his head, bowing it in shame as he continues his attempted repentance.

“I’m sorry. I know it probably means nothing to you, but I am sorry that I put you in this situation…We met when Ellie and I first stopped in Jackson to find Tommy. Before we went to, uh…I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But I didn’t think that I was good for her; I’m older, I have so much shit that I’ve done, and I didn’t think I could give her the life she wanted. When I came back, I tried to stay away. But when I saw her, I couldn’t help but be drawn to her. It was like a fucking magnet or gravitational pull. And well, eventually, I broke all my resolve. We slept together, out in the field behind the storage barn. I felt so fucking guilty afterward that I ignored her, for months. And, uh, I asked Tommy to set me up. Which is when I met you,” he interrupts his speech with a deep breath as he continues his full confessional, each sentence he speaks feeling like a brick being broken down from his walls.

“And I thought that if I made the decision to move on, to date, to get married, that we would both get over each other. I am so sorry that I did this to you. I just thought that you were a nice woman, you weren’t looking for anything really since you’d lived your life with your husband before. It was easy for me. Selfish, and easier than facing reality. But, when I went to check on her after she didn’t show up to work all week after we’d gotten married, we slept together again. And we kept meeting up in secret, having an affair. Have been for months.”

Heather continues her empty, faraway stare as she processes everything Joel’s just laid out in front of her. Silence falls over the room as he gives her time to formulate a response.

“Do you love her?”

That surprises him. Did she actually ask that? Is this the part where she screams and cries and shows her anger? His head shoots up from its hanging position and hands clasp together between his knees as he keeps eye contact with his wife across the room. He thinks back on all of the time you spent together and finally comes to admit what he’s known since that first conversation.

His voice breaks as he speaks, thick with the emotion that the first time he’s saying this is to the completely wrong person, “Yeah. I love her. With everything I have. I’d do anything for her.”

Heather nods shortly, arms uncrossing and dropping to her sides. She looks around the room, her brain working as she thinks about what to do.

“Okay. I’ll make it easy for you then. I’m leaving. We’re separating, since we were never legally married in the first place. If you can give me tonight, I’ll be out tomorrow. Just, I don’t know, ask Ellie to sleepover at Dina’s and spend the night at Tommy’s or at hers, I don’t really give a shit. Don’t come back until the morning, please.”

“I won’t. I’ll do whatever you need me to. I’m sorry again, Heather. I shouldn’t have made such a stupid, selfish decision.” Joel’s filled with genuine remorse, anguish flooding his gut about how to move forward from this.

She looks at him with pity, then her eyes move to the window in the direction of your house.

“It was selfish. And not just towards me.”

At that, she walks away from the kitchen and upstairs to start packing. Joel takes this as his moment to leave, wandering to go find Ellie to tell her to spend the night at Dina’s. He thinks about going to Tommy’s, to tell him everything even though Joel’s sure that he already knows. Instead, he continues to wander, not quite ready to face you and tell you what he’s been too foolish to admit to himself.

Taps sound softly against your front door, three quick and one lingering - Joel’s signature knock. The nerves tossing in your stomach ease at the thought of him being near again, only to wash right back when you open the door. It’s a split second that you see the heartache in his expression before he’s smiling with tender sympathy, but it sticks in your mind. Did he want to stay married that badly? Was this all just fun for him? Just an affair?

The thoughts tamper in your mind when he steps inside the entryway, brawny hands cupping your cheeks to study your eyes before they drop to your waist and wrap his arms around you in a secure embrace. His gentleness is enough to bring tears back to your eyes, some spilling over as he tucks his head into your neck and takes deep, shaky breaths. One of your hands caresses the back of his head, the other holding tightly to his bicep to keep him close. Nothing is said for minutes, the two of you standing there with the front door wide open.

It’s only when you hear his sniffle muffled against your neck, your immediate reaction is to hold him close and rasp out, “Oh, Joel…It’s okay. We’ll figure it out if you have to stay -- if it’s easier to…” You can’t bare to finish the sentence - if he had to stay with her, if he wanted to stay, you knew you couldn’t last.

He pulls out of the crook of your shoulder, glossy eyes meeting yours with deep contrite behind them. He shakes his head slowly, calloused fingers tracing along your jaw before cradling your cheek. You can see in his eyes the moment his heart breaks just a fraction more, and you’re convinced the next thing out of his mouth is going to be that he has to leave you, for good.

“Darlin’, no. That’s not why - I’m not - Shit, I’ve really messed this up.” He turns away from your stare, your anxiousness returning tenfold with this reaction. He takes your hand, shuts your front door gently, and guides you over to the sofa.

He sits first, delicately handling you into the spot next to him. He cheats his body towards you, hands intertwining with yours. You look down at his larger ones encompassing yours, placed together in your lap. His thumbs soothe your skin, lulling the tightness in your chest to relax some with the comfort of his touch.

“Look at me, sweet girl.”

His croony voice pulls your attention away, following the tender command. The twang of his voice is coming out more with his emotion and it tugs your heart that you only get to hear it at its purest when he’s upset.

“Did you think I was coming here to tell you I was staying with her?”

The directness of the question steals the air from your lungs, your mouth agape when you scramble to try to cover up the clearly obvious thoughts you were having. It was as if he was inside your head, and at this moment, you didn’t necessarily appreciate how vulnerable it made you feel. He takes your silence as an answer, nodding to himself while he murmurs under his breath. Joel takes a deep breath before his gaze locks on yours.

“She’s leaving me. I told her the whole truth. And now I’m here to tell you all of the truth that I told her. It’s the least that you deserve.”

His eyes have glossed over again, no tears daring to spill out -- he’s trying to keep it all in, but you can see his emotion despite his best efforts. You’ve never seen Joel this unguarded, and it breaks your heart that he’s feeling this pain. You want to tell him that he doesn’t have to tell you anything, that he doesn’t owe you anything. But you also don’t want to close him off again, to brush this all under the rug.

“I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. I knew from that first conversation with you. That beautiful damn smile did me in the second I saw it. Hell, I’m pretty sure even Tommy and Ellie knew from that moment. I was so scared. I didn’t want to ever fail you, so I didn’t even give myself the chance to try…But I wanna try now. Completely. No more hiding, no more secrets. Just us. I love you, darlin’. Been in love with you for ages, I just couldn’t pull my head out of my ass long enough to say it to you.”

A jolt of adrenaline is shot through your body, jitters lightening your limbs as your heart beats faster. The words that you have been waiting for, dreaming of, just said so matter-of-factly by him. It feels like a figment of your imagination, so unbelievable to you at this moment that your hands reach for his chest, checking to make sure he’s really there.

A light chuckle leaves his mouth, his hands coming up to lay over yours, holding them against his pounding heartbeat. Once you believe that he’s really there, your eyes trace up from his chest. Pure affection oozes out of his brown eyes, the tiniest smile tugging the corners of his lips as he awaits your response.

You realize it’s been silent for a minute, the surprise of this conversation stealing your words. Hands press harder into his strong sternum, weight supported by him as you shift to kneel over him. You lean down and slant your mouth against his in a ghostly kiss. His mouth chases yours when you pull your head back, eyes locked into each other’s when you finally respond before kissing him passionately.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to realize that.”

It’s been a few weeks since that afternoon. Heather completely moved out of Joel’s, leaving the house with just him and Ellie again. He’s told Ellie, not the full extent of everything that’s happened because she’s only fifteen, but that he and Heather are separated and that the two of you are together. He knows she’s not naive, especially after all that she’s been through, but he couldn’t really find the courage to face her and tell her the whole truth about his stupidity. So, the rest of the gaps are to be filled in by inference or imagination.

He’s told Tommy the whole truth, though. Another reason for Maria to dislike him, especially because she was friendly with his now ex-wife. Tommy is his brother, at the end of the day, and despite him not condoning Joel’s actions over the last year, he’s said that he can’t help but feel relieved that this can all be put behind them. And that his brother, and you, his close friend, can be happy together.

Joel’s asked you to move in about four times now. Each time he asks, he knows the answer, but he can’t help but try again in the slight chance that it’s changed. You always tell him that you will, eventually, but you don’t think it’s the best idea right now. Especially with all of the shit that you have been getting that Joel seems to be ignoring.

Time passing means it’s also been a few weeks since you and Joel have been able to be around each other publicly. To express your affection, hold hands, kiss. It all feels so foreign - like you still have the risk of being caught when people look at the two of you. It doesn’t help with the glares or dirty looks you get from some people of Jackson. It festers the growing mold of insecurity in you, feeling the guilt of breaking up a marriage, even a loveless one.

The worst instances have been when you’ve been at work and Joel stops in, either on his own or with Tommy and some patrol guys. Nothing has changed from his routine before, but now he doesn’t have to hide his reactions to your hands brushing when you pass him a drink or wait around all night just to be able to kiss you and walk you home.

Joel’s handsy, to say the least. Especially with a drink or two in him. He’s constantly running a hand down your side or to your ass when you bring over a tray of drinks to the high-top table he and his buddies are at. Or he’s leaning over the counter to grab a kiss from you when you drop a glass of whiskey in front of him. He’s even gotten to a point where he was tipsy enough to climb behind the bar in the opening at the end, stealthily creeping up behind you as you organize glasses to wrap himself around you and give you a sloppy kiss. He’s cheered on by his cohort and all but chased out from behind the bar by his brother who grumbles annoyances as Joel shoots a cheeky wink in your direction.

All of his displays make you smile, and you haven’t been happier to finally have Joel to yourself and for everyone to know just how in love with you he is. But, it hasn’t made it any easier when you hear all of the nasty things said about you.

The worst of it comes one night when you’re working. Joel’s been put on an evening patrol shift, but he’d promised to swing by the Tipsy Bison to pick you up and take you back to his to spend the night.

Most of the shift comes and goes uneventfully - some friends stop in and keep you entertained for a few hours, the music playing not making you want to bang your head against the wall. Tommy’s working with you tonight, having taken some time off of patrol to help out more around the house and with his now one-year-old son. He approaches you at the bar polishing glasses, nodding to a group of women around a table that are on their fourth or fifth round of the night.

“Think you can take the next round over to them for me? Really gotta take a piss.” You laugh at Tommy’s excuse, nodding and taking the order from him.

“You could just ask, y’know. Didn’t need the extra information.” He rolls his eyes and quickly jets off to the bathrooms. You prepare the cocktails and grab the two beers from the fridge, arranging everything on a tray to make your way over to the ladies.

About three paces away, you tune into their conversation and your stomach sinks to your feet.

“Can you believe that she can still show her face around here? I would be holed up in my house if I were her.”

“She probably feels great about herself. I bet she’s going after the other brother now, have you seen them joking around all night with each other? She’s basically throwing herself at him. What a slut.”

“I think I’ll actually feel bad for Joel if that happens. But, you know what they say, once a homewrecker, always a homewrecker.”

“She probably gets off on being the mistress or something. Adds the excitement since she’s probably gotten fucked every which way at this point in her life.”

Tears prick your eyes and you blink them away, steel expression as you close in on the table. You stay silent as you deposit the drinks on the surface, turning away with the tray under your arm only to hear one of them shout after you.

“Homewrecking whore!”

They dissolve into cackles, the tables around them all now talking in hushed tones as they stare at you. The burn of humiliation creeps up your neck, watery eyes bubbling over. Don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you break, you’re already pathetic enough right now without them seeing your face. Your legs book it into the bathroom after throwing the drink tray onto the counter, the black plastic skidding to a stop in front of the younger Miller.

Tommy’s heard what was shouted, the bullies snickering away and satisfied. Anger bites in his throat and he holds back from shouting across the room. Instead, he saunters over and starts picking up the nearly full drinks onto the tray again, the group staring at him incredulously.

“Excuse me, we’re drinking those?”

He simply shakes his head, smiling politely at them.

“Nah, you’re leaving. Now. And you’re gonna stop harassing people if you wanna come back.”

At that he walks away, dumping the drinks in the back bar sink and watching the group exit in a huff.

When you come out of the bathroom puffy-eyed and see the empty table, the thought occurs to you that Tommy must have said something. You give him an appreciative smile, and he says nothing more of it for the rest of the shift.

Your mind continues to replay all of the horrible things they said about you, starting to wonder if there was a layer of truth to it. You were distracted for the rest of the night and when you escaped back to the stock room to pull what was needed at the end of the night, Tommy took the opportunity to pull Joel aside when he walked through the doors to pick you up.

“Don’t tell her that I told you this, but something happened at work tonight.” Tommy keeps his voice down from the lingering patrons, one arm across his torso, the other holding his hand to his mouth to pinch his lip. His eyes dance around to make sure there’s no one eavesdropping.

“What? What are you saying, what happened? Is she okay?” Joel’s brow furrows, feet stepping towards the back to find you. He worries immediately, his mind used to jumping to the worst scenarios from the shit that he’s seen.

“She’s in one piece, quit panicking. Just, some unsavory things were said. There’re this group of women that were drunk, but I think they said some stuff about her. All I heard was what they shouted at her when she walked away, called her a ‘homewrecking whore.’”

Joel grimaces, his heart breaking at the thought of you being subjected to such torment. His temper swells in his chest, and his first thought was to go find whoever it was and sling insults right back to them. It wasn’t even true, he was the one who got you all into that mess, but of course, to an outsider looking in, they were going to blame the third party involved in a marriage that fell apart.

Joel nods in understanding, not willing to dare repeat what Tommy said, the words sitting bitterly in his mouth while he leans against the counter waiting for you.

Your eyes are trained down when you enter the main room again, counting the stock of the bottles in your hands under your breath. At someone’s throat clearing, your head snaps up and the slightest smile grows on your face at the sight of Joel leaning over the bar with a gentle, boyish grin.

“Hey, sweet girl. Boss man says you can head home early with me.” He jerks his head in Tommy’s direction, his brother smiling with a hand raised in a wave. You smile wider, waving your thanks back as you set the box of bottles on the counter. Making your way out and over to Joel, his arms scoop you up against him with a sigh of contentment.

“Missed you, darlin’. You ready to head home?” His lips press into your hair at the top of your head, the tiniest bit of tension from the night relaxing in his embrace.

“Ready. Let’s go home, cowboy.” Joel chuckles lightly at the nickname, keeping one arm wrapped around you as you both start down the gravel street. He recounts his shift with you, telling you about a family of bunnies he saw to cheer you up and cracking a couple of jokes. You barely smile in his direction, laughing a beat too late when you register that he’s been jesting with you, much too quiet for your normal, bubbly self. You act completely cold about it all, with no anger or emotion burning in you to share with him. It squeezes his chest, the fact that you’re in pain and keeping it distant from him. Those horrible fucking words that he wishes he could just wipe from your brain sit sour in his mouth. All he wants is to block them out so you never have to hear them again because they are the furthest thing from the truth.

He wishes you would tell him what happened tonight; you feign an uneventful evening when he asks about your night. All he wants to do is reassure you, but without you opening up, he doesn’t want to push you if you don't want to talk about it.

The two of you walk into his house, trailing up lazily to the bedroom. Per your request, the room has been rearranged and the bedding has been changed to an extra set you had at home, making the space once again solely Joel’s. Instead of bits of her sprinkled into the space, there are pieces of you lying around that make his heart beat a little faster and a smile crosses his face each time he notices them. Clothes in his dresser, earrings on the nightstand, the book you’re reading on the desk where it’d been left this morning.

Changing from your work clothes, you leave them hanging over the chair. Your pajamas are a pair of boxers that he hasn't touched since moving to Jackson and one of his old t-shirts, the fabric worn in just the right way to make it ideal for sleeping. He strips down, slipping on a pair of grey sweats and staying shirtless. He crawls onto his unmade bed, peeling back your side, and patting your spot, a soft smile on your face as you take the invitation.

Joel’s hands find your waist, bunching up the cotton of his t-shirt to press his palms to your warm skin. He dips his head down to your chest, nuzzling his hooked nose against your breasts. He presses sweet kisses to the soft cushiony tissue, forehead resting on your sternum. He hums against the fabric covering you, lifting his hands at your hips to pull the hem further up. You relax under his affection, quiet, breathy sighs leaving your lips.

“My sweet girl, can I help get you out of your head?” Joel’s question sends a wave of arousal between your legs, his broad frame rolling you from your side to your back. He moves to hover over your form from the side, hands coasting over your curves. Thumbs tweak your nipples through your shirt, a whimper falling from your lips. Your complete trust and devotion stare back at him as you fully comply with his request.

“Please distract me.”

Joel groans at your submission, eyes blown wide with hunger and awe.

“Gonna give you exactly what you need to feel better, baby. Gonna remind you how much I love you.” He pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it over the side of the bed. Lips attach to the supple peaks of your breasts, sucking gently and pulling moans from your lips. He works the opposite one with his fingers, swapping his attentive mouth when he feels you arch your back to press your chest into his face. His lips separate from your nipple, hot open-mouthed kisses trailing down your stomach. Every few, Joel’s tongue slips out and skates against your skin, the sensation rippling goosebumps along the surface.

Once he reaches the waist of the boxer shorts you’ve got on, he sits up to admire your form under him. The spots of his saliva glisten in the low, yellow lamplight, your breasts perked up as they rise and fall with your shallow breaths. His fingers hook into the elastic band, slipping them down and sending you soft praise when you lift your hips for him.

“Good girl.”

The shorts join your shirt, rumpled on the floor somewhere. Joel sits back on his heels, gripping your ankles gently to bend your knees and spread your legs open for him. You mold to his positioning like clay, one leg falling to the side lazily to put your glistening cunt on display for him. His tongue wets his lips as he drinks the sight of you up, wishing he was any good at drawing or painting so that he could reproduce you like the work of art you are.

His touch floats up your calves and your velvety thighs, focus zeroing in on the dripping folds in front of him. He shimmies down the bed onto his tummy, arms hooking under your thighs to pull you closer to him. He rests on his elbows partially, and you watch as his gaze becomes fully entranced by the vision of your wet arousal that is all for him.

“You’re so beautiful, darlin’. Everything about you, but especially this gorgeous pussy of yours. She’s just weeping for me, isn’t she? You want me to take care of her? Show her she’s mine? Show you how much I love you?” His words only cause more dampness to flood your core, soft whines drawing out of you as you move to sit up. You lean back on your hands, desperate to watch every detail unfold of your man worshipping you from between your legs.

“Please, Joel. Pretty please,” you mewl.

A satisfied smirk crosses his face, loving how desperate you get for him. His eyes fall to the space between your legs, his mouth salivating. He leans in, letting spit drip onto the coarse curls that cover your mound, his hardening cock twitching as part of him coats your sex, marking you as his in addition to the love bites waxing and waning in phases across your body. He reaches a hand around your leg, coating his fingers with your wetness and using it to mix and smear his spit and your arousal all over the hair and skin there.

He presses a delicate kiss to your hood, the contact sending a jolt to your thighs and jerking your hips. One large hand pushes down on your stomach to keep you in place as he swipes his tongue from your taint to your clit, the tip of it slipping in to tease your entrance as it skates along through your slick. He savors the taste of you, a sharp sweetness that’s become his favorite flavor.

A groan rumbles from his chest, vibrating against you before his mouth sucks at your clit. Moans tumble from your mouth, breath hitching as you inhale when his tongue moves down, pressing into your entrance slightly. Like eating ice cream in a heatwave, he moves to catch any dripping arousal with his mouth or chin, your name falling from his lips as he feels himself achingly hard in his sweatpants against the mattress. He starts to fuck his hips into the cushiony material, tongue easily slipping in and out as he starts to thrust in your cunt.

“Fucking love your little sounds. Love how sweet you are for me, darlin’. Never gonna get enough.”

Fingers work circles in your clit, the motions tightening the knot in your stomach. Your head falls back with a moan of Joel’s name, chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to keep breathing while your pleasure builds its pressure inside of you. His mouth and fingers swap positions, suckling at your clit with lewd noises while two of his large fingers slide in between your walls. His hand fucks your tight pussy, praises rasped against your mound as he takes a breath to press kisses against the curls there. Another finger is added, the girth of all three working you towards your bliss.

“Fuck, ‘m so close, baby. Gonna come, oh my god. Feel so good.” Your voice is high-pitched, whining as the pressure pushes harder inside of you, taut coils ready to snap.

Joel looks up at you, pupils completely blown wide in ecstasy. His hips still work his hard cock against the mattress, his own release building inside of him.

“Be my sweet girl, come on my mouth.”

With his words and his lips attached to your cunt again, the pressure built in you releases with a mind-clearing, blinding pop. Your wanton moans echo in the room, the bawdy sounds of your pleasure and your wetness mixing together as Joel continues to work you through your orgasm.

His hips move faster as he watches you come undone from his handiwork, the noises you’re making sending him over the edge. He comes in his sweatpants with a moan of your name, dry humping the mattress like a teenager. He feels like he should be embarrassed, but after all that he just witnessed from you, it’s a miracle he didn’t bust when you simply opened your legs for him.

Untangling himself from you, he excuses himself to the bathroom to clean himself up, throw his pants in the hamper and grabs a warm, damp washcloth for you. He patters back over to the bed and takes care of you, discarding the washcloth and gently closing your legs. He climbs back into bed with you, pulling the covers up once again. He nestles in behind you, curling his frame around you protectively. Your mind’s foggy from your orgasm and exhaustion floods over your body, no protest from you as you start to drift. He nuzzles into your hair, pressing a delicate kiss at the back of your neck as he whispers to you.

“It’s only you, darlin’.”

Another month passes after that night at the bar where you heard what was being said about you around town. The gossiping didn’t stop, especially when people found out that you had finally caved in from Joel’s relentless (yet charming) pleads and agreed to move in with him and Ellie.

Everyone seemed to have an opinion on how fast you both had moved, how you were shoving everything in his ex-wife’s face, how you were staking your claim so publicly and like a “whore.” Whatever it all meant, it was heard in whispers at the bar, in the market, in town meetings, you name it. If you were present, people were talking.

It influenced you the more you heard it; the repetition of it all made it sound like truth to your weak mind. You kept these feelings of guilt and shame inside, burying them deep in an attempt to keep everything copacetic for Joel. He was happy these days, smiling more and cracking jokes. He was more involved in the community and Ellie also found her place with Joel behind her and fully content in Jackson. You dreaded being the one to cause any more problems than you already did for the last year and a half, so you shut your mind up in an attempt to compartmentalize.

If Joel didn’t know what all was being said, that was for the best. You weren’t going to be the one to burst the love bubble that he had for you, so you were just going to keep cool and try to get out of your head about everything that was left undiscussed.

But, that only made going into town and going to work hell. You weren’t acting like yourself anymore, no small talk with customers or catching up with neighbors and friends that would come to visit you. You did your job and walked home each night silently, even when you were with Joel. Every shift you would hear some new comment or rumor about you, adding it to the file that you had accumulated in your mind. Your subconscious flicked through it every night in your dreams, pulling out some of the worst to relive when you should have been dreaming of being happy with the man lying beside you.

The guilt was pulling you under, each new comment acting like a brick to weigh you down into the sea of liability and disgrace you were lost in. There was shame over how you were characterized in the outcome of all of this, guilt over breaking up his marriage, anxiety over becoming a burden to Joel and anchoring him down into the depths again. You’d thought it all would wash away with the changing of tides, since you and Joel could be together openly, but it only brought you to the ocean floor while Joel was floating on the waves above you.

It was an evening that Joel had off, opting to stay in and play Boggle with Ellie. You left the two of them to head to work after playing a few rounds yourself, both you and Ellie completely annihilating Joel. The acid in your stomach sloshed around, pressure building in your torso and pushing the burning sensation up your chest and into your throat as your steps closed in on the Tipsy Bison. Your tongue feels heavy and dry in your mouth, breaths jagged as you attempt to calm yourself outside the wooden building. You stand there for what feels like an hour, wrangling all your anxiety into a small lump in your throat. This is where it would sit for the rest of the night until you could finally let it all back out on your walk home.

The beginning of your shift was normal, nothing said to or about you. That all changed, though, when the person you least expected to see comes and sits on the stool in front of where you’re polishing glasses.

Heather.

Your eyes widen in surprise and nervousness, the lump in your throat starting to seep its way back into the burning acid of your stomach and the tightness of your chest. Ears brace themselves for either an insult or something degrading to be thrown your way. After a beat of silence, you scramble to resolve the awkward tension.

“I can get Tracy to serve you, she’s just over--”

“No, no that’s not necessary. If you’re fine with serving me, that is.”

You nod quickly to relieve the discomfort, your people-pleasing tendencies rearing their ugly head. You actually don’t want to be serving her, but you also really don’t want more drama to inevitably spread about you walking away to get someone else for her - there’s no chance that it wouldn’t be spun against you.

“Um, yeah no, totally cool. What can I get ya?”

She gives you her order and you quickly make it up, depositing the glass in front of her. Silence falls between the two of you again, but this time she’s the one to break it.

“So, um, how are you? How’s work?”

The questions take you off-guard. You were friendly with Heather before, as her neighbor you would bring over extra garden crops and she would offer to mend clothes of yours. She was always polite and made small talk with you. Well, that was before she knew you were fucking her husband.

“It’s good, I guess. Not much to change around here. How’re things at school? You’re still teaching there?”

You're an idiot. Why are you continuing this conversation as if you guys are long-time acquaintances? You’re trying to be cool about it, just ignore the elephant in the room, but something’s gotta give at one point, right?

“Things are great. We’ve got some open volunteer positions if you’d be interested. It wouldn’t be with me if that’s a concern.”

“No - no. I mean, I’d love to volunteer for Ellie’s class if there’s anything…” you trail off, the thorny pricks of awkwardness becoming too much for you. You start to speak, only to hear Heather at the same time.

“Listen, I really am sor--”

“It’s not all your fault--”

The two of you laugh lightly, tension coating the conversation. Your eyes glance around at anything but Heather’s face before finally meeting her gaze and nodding for her to go first.

She clears her throat, adjusting her position on the stool before starting again.

“It’s not all your fault that my marriage fell apart. I mean, yeah, you’ve got some culpability in the fact that you were having an affair with Joel, but he also told me that you had been with him before we even dated. And, as a woman myself and someone who fell for Joel, my best guess is that you’ve been in love with him since that first time. And Joel told me - what he felt for you the whole time, too. I just, I wanted to say to you that I don’t blame you. Joel is the one who made a stupid, selfish decision that affected both of us. Having an affair with him? Yeah, not really great, but I’ve thought about it for a while, and I would’ve done the same if it were my first husband. He was the love of my life, and I never wanted to lose him. So, yeah. I wanted to tell you that I understand. And I completely despise what everyone says about you. It’s disgusting, and I’m so sorry you have to hear that all the time.”

She’s apologizing to you. The woman whose husband you had an affair with. Granted, she was right that you were together once before they even dated. And that you’ve loved him ever since. But there is actually no sane world in which she should be apologizing to you. Have you made the impression that you were expecting this? Was she feeling guilty towards you?

All of these thoughts eat away at you, crashing around your mind and making that burning pressure alive again in your gut. You chew your lip, eyes wide, and stare a thousand miles away. Remorse overtakes your mind, words caught in your throat.

Why couldn’t she have just come in here guns blazing? Screamed at you? Called you all those names you’ve heard for weeks?

Her being cruel would be way better than her being kind, understanding even.

It makes your chest tighten, air squeezed out of your lungs in a panic.

You have to say something, so your voice squeaks a response.

“Thank you. I’m so sorry, too. I really didn’t want to hurt you, I just-I couldn’t let him go.”

Heather nods, a glint of a past life in her eyes. She presses her lips in a tight line before exhaling deeply. Standing from the stool, she nods again, giving you a quick goodbye and making her way out.

She really only came here to say that to you. To apologize.

You're an utter piece of shit, guilt, and shame finally filling your lungs and stealing your breath away from you.

Quickly, you turn to your nearest coworker, mumbling out an excuse that you need to leave early. Instead of waiting for any confirmation, you all but run out of the building, feet carrying you past Joel’s house with the lights still on, and past your old little cottage that now sits dormant. The overgrown lawn tugs at your heart, begging you to take care of it again. You turn back towards Joel’s, seeing him laughing with Ellie through the window, and the tugs on your heart pull harder towards them.

You pass the residential area, approaching the site you haven’t seen in months. Following around the tattered, weather-worn red siding of the old barn, the open grazing field comes into full view. You climb over the split-rail fence, mind reeling over what tonight has entailed while muscle memory carries you to the small clearing in the tall grasses.

Not even realizing you were holding your breath, a sigh escapes your lips. Dewy earth dampens the seat of your jean shorts, the sticky summer air keeping you warm. Thighs press to your chest and your arms envelope around your knees. You rest your chin in between your kneecaps, eyes combing up to the night sky above you. The lack of light pollution these days has made the stars brighter against the deep blue atmosphere. They blur from the tears welling in your eyes, one blink creating tiny streams on your face. They feed into the ocean of guilt and shame that you’ve made your home, the feeling of it’s waters choking your lungs to breath out sobs.

You sit like that for a while, fuzzy constellations kaleidoscoping in your vision. Your attention is only pulled away from the midnight blue when you hear a twig snap. Turning over your shoulder, the back of you hand wipes your eyes clear to see Joel standing behind you. Hands in the front pockets of his jeans, he stands tense and looks down at you softhearted and doleful.

Without an invitation, he closes the gap between you, groaning quietly as he bends down to take the spot next to you. You’re transported back to countless nights before, Joel and you under the same sky to spend your fleeting time together before sunrise.

“Got real worried when you didn’t come home when you usually do. Checked the bar first, and your old place. Guess I should’ve had the thought to come here a lot sooner.” His voice is low, gentle timbre vibrating the tightness in your chest and giving some slack to the taut pull of it.

“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, I just--I couldn’t go home right away. I didn’t want to ruin your night with Ellie…” your own voice is meek, cracking slightly from disuse. You sniffle, the back of your hand swiping under your nose and the heel of your palm rubbing the tear stains from your cheeks. The evidence of your emotion makes you embarrassed; here you were, your anxious fears coming true -- you’re officially a burden to Joel. He’s had to cut his night short with his daughter, traipsing around town to try to find you because you couldn’t bother to swallow your sorrow and head home like normal.

“Darlin’, you don’t need to apologize. It’s okay that you needed time alone, but even if you had come home, you wouldn’t have ruined our night. We love you…” he clears his throat, tender touches tucking hair behind your ears and rubbing the nape of your neck before continuing, “What’s wrong, baby? What’s got you so upset?”

“It’s nothin’. It’s nothin’, I’m fine. Just, tough night at work…” You lie through your teeth, avoiding Joel’s gaze to keep the facade. One look in your eyes and you know he’d see right through you.

“It’s clearly not nothin’ if you’re crying about it, darlin’. You can tell me anything. I wanna help you, be there for you, protect you. Did someone say something to you? Something mean?”

Your eyes snap up to him, the knowing look on his face cluing you in that he’s known about what’s being said around town. You don’t really know what hurts more in the moment - the fact that he knew all of these horrible things were being said and he didn’t comfort you or that you’ve already been a burden to him, already been another problem for him for much longer than you thought.

You think about lying to him, but you know he would be able to tell - he can always tell - instead opting to just break down the damn of everything you’ve been feeling, letting it all rush out at once.

“It’s all of it. Everything that people are saying about me, it feels like it’s the truth. I did break up a marriage. I did have an affair for months with you; you were someone’s husband. I love you, but it doesn’t negate the fact that what happened was still wrong on some level. And what everyone’s saying about what I did, it’s made this sea of guilt and shame and I’m drowning in it. I can’t keep my head clear above water, it’s all consuming right now. And I feel so anxious about being a burden to you. You’ve been so happy lately, with us being together and living together and Ellie being adjusted. You’re so much lighter, floating even. I couldn’t bear to drag you under with me when you finally caught your breath.” It all tumbles out of you in a stream of consciousness, and in the end, Joel is silent as he takes it all in.

The thought occurs to you that you’ve been wanting to know how Joel has felt about all of it. You haven’t talked about it at all; if he felt just the same guilt and shame, maybe it could help you both work to absolve your sins. If you were in it together, then maybe you had a chance to make it to land.

“Sweet girl, I hate that you’ve been feeling that way. And I hate that you thought you couldn’t tell me, just cause I’ve been happy to have you finally and I feel like we’re creating a lil’ family. But, I have to say, I ain’t got any regrets. I’ve got you now, I’ve got you in our home and with my daughter, it’s all that matters to me. I couldn’t care less about anything that people are saying about you, it makes me pissed, but getting angry at ‘em just fuels the fire. We can just move on, darlin’. We should just live our lives, fuck whoever doesn’t want to be happy for us.”

Bile creeps up and scorches your throat, a whirlpool swirling in your stomach and the choking feel back in your lungs. You hold it all in, letting Joel wrap his arms around you and pull you up to take you home.

Does he really have no regrets? Would he still get married if he was given another chance? Would he still choose to put you through this pain that has been a constant dull in your heart for the last year and a half? Would he choose the path that makes you the target of so much contempt, disgust, antipathy from so many?

Those thoughts have plagued you for days now. You had swallowed your searing pain, the guilt cold in your lungs as the hurt settled in your stomach, seeping throughout your body to make your limbs tender and heavy. Every step felt like it took too much effort, every fake smile plastered on your face made your cheeks sore in the wrong way. You had become a method actor in your own life, optimistic contentment used as a mask to hide the truth. You went through the motions of the days off you had, enjoying breakfast with Joel and Ellie, laughing at their bickering, and making them both their favorite way to eat eggs - Joel’s scrambled and Ellie’s over medium. You were a family, just as Joel had said, and you were playing the role of the dutiful, delighted partner.

Once they both left for the day, you deflated. Took off the mask and stared at yourself in the mirror, taste of bitter metal in your mouth as you watched the remorse, the regret crawl out of your chest and into your eyes, across your face. It disgusted you, angered you, yet you forced yourself to study it, punished yourself because everyone had told you that you should.

That was how it had gone for the last handful of days. Today was your first day back at work, and you got ready outside of the bathroom to avoid facing the hideous manifestations of your sins. Exiting your shared bedroom, your face pulled tight again, smile ghosting across your lips and eyes crinkled with subtle joy. Joel was standing at the bottom of the stairs, kneeling to lace up his boots. At the sight of you, he grinned and stood up, hands reaching for your waist and pulling you in for a chaste kiss.

Part of you wondered if he could taste it on you - the bitter, sour feeling that sat in your mouth. How much his lack of regret had crumbled any resolve you had left, any room for forgiveness you had in yourself.

He walked you to work before heading off on patrol. Walking inside, you instantly wanted to turn back and hide away at home for weeks longer. The thought of having to keep up your act for the whole night was making you nauseous. An hour into your shift, you couldn’t take the feeling anymore, so you snuck a shot of whiskey to attempt to take the edge off. The tingle of the alcohol soothed the lump in your throat, warming your cold chest and settling your woozy stomach. It gave you a break, for just a moment.

You chased that moment of peace all night, taking pulls whenever you could. You chatted more with patrons and coworkers, bubbling up giggles as your brain shut off from your inebriation. It was so tranquil to not have that frigid shame in your lungs, the thoughts of all that has been said to hurt you in the last few months silenced, even the voice of Joel saying he has zero regrets about what he’d done is muffled.

No wonder why Joel got drunk all the time at the beginning of this. It’s the only medicine that works for guilt.

By the end of your shift, you’re nearly wasted. Not quite to a level where you’ve lost motor skills but to the point where your eyes lids feel heavy, your vision is blurred on the edges, and your words start to slur together. When you’ve snuck to the backroom to take another swig, pushing the limit of how drunk you can get in the next ten minutes before your shift ends, Joel saunters into the bar. His eyes scan the room for any sight of you, pouting slightly when he comes up empty. Tommy’s working tonight, so he makes his way over to the end of the bar where his brother stands. Joel leans against the counter, nodding a greeting to Tommy and asking where you’re at.

Tommy looks at him, lips pressed together and eyebrows raised. He glances back at the entrance to the stockroom before leaning in.

“She’s back there. Probably downing a couple more shots of whiskey.”

Joel’s eyes widen and his brow shoots up, a look of shock at what Tommy’s said. It’s not like you to drink at work, hell, you barely ever have a nightcap when the place is all cleared out. Joel can count the number of times he’s seen you drunk on one hand, and this is certainly not an occasion that would have you indulging. He clears his throat, eyes focused back on his brother.

“She’s drinking at work? Is she drunk?”

As Tommy opens his mouth to respond, the door to the stockroom swings on its hinges and you stumble out while whistling. The moment would normally make Joel chuckle, the way you’re completely carefree is somewhat endearing to him. But right now, he can’t help but worry that something else has happened to make you upset, and this time you’ve taken a coping mechanism out of his book.

Your mouth forms a perfect circle, surprise washing over your expression as you look around for anyone to share your reaction. A small burp comes from behind the hand you put up to your mouth, down turning your gaze away from him. Feet shuffle along to Joel, arms crossing over your chest as if the warmth in your chest will heat you up like sitting in front of a fire.

“Well, hello there, darlin’. Feeling good?” He chuckles lightly to hide his concern, Tommy backing up from the two of you and quickly making an exit from what is bound to be a bit of an awkward moment.

Painted smile on your face that doesn’t reach your eyes, hand reaching for his as a hiccup shoots from your chest.

“Guess so. Turned my brain off for the night, ‘was nice.” It was just what he was panicked about. That you had done what he had done so many months ago, gotten drunk out of his mind to grapple with all the remorse he had felt constantly.

He hated that you felt the same. He was the reason you were going through this. His actions hurt you, even beyond the time that you were his secret. He failed to pull you out with himself, leaving you to take on the weight of all that he had done, sinking you deeper while he had made it to the surface.

A stiff smile stretches across his face, hand reaching for the small of your back to guide you home.

“Alright, let’s get you home, sweet girl. Think you might need to clock out for the night.” He sends Tommy a wave and you turn to do the same, tripping over your feet. Joel catches you at your waist, righting you on your way out. He keeps a hand on you, eyes trained on your profile to keep watch. You keep your stare ahead, silencing falling over the two of you.

The fresh air has sobered you up some, thoughts infesting your mind again. The alcohol has kept you from getting back into the act that you’ve kept up around Joel, even working your blood to boil with anger towards him for the words that have been branded into your heart.

I ain’t got any regrets.

“Fucking bullshit.” You think out loud and the words stop Joel in his tracks. Brows furrow in confusion as his lips pucker to one side.

“What’s that, darlin’?”

“It’s fucking bullshit, Joel.”

He laughs apprehensively, unsure of where this is going. The words cut with bitterness behind them, and he can see in your eyes there’s pain burning.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I’m gonna need a little more from you.” He tilts his head to the side, the line between his brow deepening.

You can’t hold it in any longer, a river of anguish, guilt, pain, and more rushing out of you.

“How you just can get over it! We can just act like everything’s fine and nothing is fucked up about the way we got together! And you can feel all the relief of not having to hide an affair from your wife anymore and not hiding me, but now I’ve been passed the massive fucking weight. Now I’m known as the homewrecker, the slut, the mistress. You’re still Joel. It’s always ‘There’s Joel and the homewrecker. She’s so bold to be able to be with him after she broke apart a marriage.’ It feels like I’m barely keeping my head above water sometimes like this huge sea of guilt is going to drown me. I can’t understand how you can just have no regrets about it all when it’s hurt me so much. How I loved you, still love you so fucking much despite how much pain you’ve given to me. Purposefully or not, it all hurts the same. I’m so glad that you can show everyone that you love me, but I can’t keep pretending like we’re the picture-perfect couple and make a home together and live life now without addressing all of this shit. I can’t just pretend to be cool about it anymore.”

Tears have poured out of your eyes in the middle of everything, mixing with the runny nose that you sniffle back. You probably look a mess, but you can’t bring yourself to wipe it away. You want the sight to face Joel along with your words. You need him to see it all, to realize how much you’ve been harboring, how badly you need him to take some of the weight off of your chest before the water fully fills your lungs and takes you under completely.

Joel's tears burn his own eyes as he sees exactly what his stupidity has caused. He thought he could help you get over it by acting like he had moved on in hopes that you would do the same. That you guys could start fresh, leave it all behind. It was another stupid choice that he’d made. Of course, you couldn’t leave everything in the past; the way you built your relationship was in secret, hidden away. Of course, you should have been given reassurance when the two of you could finally be together. He should’ve shut everyone up instead of hoping that the insults and rumors would die out. Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.

He had more regrets now than he ever did.

His voice is thick when he finally responds, hand reaching up to grasp at the nape of your neck and the other on your cheek, holding your gaze in his.

“Of course I have regrets. I said that to try to put that thought in your head. I thought if you heard that I felt that way, you would start to feel it, too. That you could let go, be the carefree, light person that I fell in love with. That I am in love with. I am so sorry that you feel like you are carrying this all by yourself. I have so much remorse for the past. I tell myself every day that if I could go back, I would have never doubted what we could be together. That you loved me completely, that I wouldn’t fail you. I choose you, over it all. I love you so much, and I am so sorry that I’ve hurt you. You don’t ever have to pretend around me. I’m the only other person who could understand what you’re feeling, I want you to tell me everything. Yell at me, cry about it to me, whatever you need to do. But please, don’t keep it from me. I should’ve reassured you. I should’ve been honest with you. I should’ve protected you, told everyone in this fucking town what I think of anything they have to say. I am so sorry that I failed you. You’re it for me. This has to work. I will do anything to make this work and to make you happy, 'cause I have no clue what I’d do without you. I finally have my shot at a life with you, and I’m not giving that up.”

His words drive a knife into your chest - you realize that his biggest fear has come true. He’s failed you. Or thinks he’s failed you.

Yes, his actions have hurt you, but for a long time, you were choosing the pain. And yes, you’ve taken on the guilt for both of you, and you realize you are still choosing the pain, but this time it's all too much to take on alone.

Not once did you think he failed you. You’ve thought you would fail him, dull him, lose him. That you couldn’t work through your own shit to be happy with him. Both of you have avoided communicating and miscommunicated at the same time.

The two of you have been so absorbed in trying to give the other what you thought they needed, that you’ve ended up doing the opposite.

Truth was, that you both needed the same things from each other. You needed the other to fully knock down the walls, to be vulnerable, to be honest. You both tried so hard to placate the other, to make the other one feel better about everything, that you’ve ended up on completely opposite ends.

You can’t help but laugh. Only the two of you could be so troubled with trying to make the other happy, at ease, or content that you end up making it worse. It hasn't been easy for the last year and a half, and as soon as it could be, you've found ways to complicate it.

Joel stares at you quizzically, the sound relaxing his concern. He can’t help the grin that tugs at his lips, shaking his head in disbelief at you.

“Okay, did I say something funny? Or wrong? Is this whole thing about to be over and you’re laughing maniacally?”

That makes you giggle more, tears of laughter now rolling down your perked-up face. You catch your breath, inhaling a few times through your chuckles to finally calm down enough to speak. You press your hands to his chest in reassurance, shaking your head with a genuine smile aching your cheeks.

“No, no. Absolutely not. That was - that was exactly what I needed to hear. I just - I’m sorry, I’m laughing because we are both so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, sweet girl, it’s only me --”

“Nah, uh huh. Both. I don’t mean to call you stupid, maybe silly is a better word. We’ve just -- we’ve been so focused on trying to spare the other, to make the other happy that we’ve totally missed what we both needed. And what we need from each other is exactly the same.”

“And what is that?” His confusion has lessened, but still hasn’t left. What’s vanished has been replaced with a content smirk quipped up to the side.

“Being honest. Being vulnerable. Communicating. I should have told you how I was feeling this whole time so that you could understand, and I should have known that I could come to you even though I thought I would be a burden. I'm sorry I didn't realize that sooner. We're in this together.”

The light bulb goes off for him, eyes brightening as he comes to his own realization.

“No need to apologize, darlin'. Like you said, 'm just as guilty in this mess. We chose each other -- we should be partners, not adversaries. I should’ve been honest about how I felt about everything that happened. I shouldn’t've pretended everything was fine.”

You nod, tender smile as you stare into his eyes. Your expressions have softened, tears have dried, and every bit of pain has been replaced with forgiveness, perspective, and love. Joel chuckles himself, and you break into a fit of giggles together.

“God, we really are a pair of fools, huh?” Joel’s voice is light, teeth pulling his bottom lip under them as he gazes down at you in his arms.

“Wound up as bad comedians mocking our own lives. The creators of our own suffering.”

“Wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else, darlin’. But, do you think we could come up with something new? Maybe something actually fun?”

That makes you laugh again, Joel’s chest warming at your joy. His hands fall from your neck and face, snaking around your waist to hold you close. You nod in agreement with a gentle, content grin.

“Only the good stuff from here on out. Maybe we can even sprinkle in some shitty puns?”

“Oh yeah? Got any on your mind? Hit me, I’ll decide if it gets added to the act.”

You think for a moment, a cheeky smirk twisting your mouth.

“Hmm…how about “You must be a planet, and I must be a moon, 'cause I totally revolve around you!”

Joel’s head rolls back with a grumble of laughter, a grimace on his face once he looks at you again, shaking his head.

“'M sorry, darlin’, but that is so bad.”

“Okay, well you try it then!” The two of you start your walk back to your home, tangled up in each other. You pinch his side at the rejection, looking up expectantly.

“What did Neil Armstrong say when no one laughed at his moon jokes? I guess you had to be there!” He laughs as if it’s the funniest thing, and the dad joke gives you the slightest chuckle.

“Oh, c’mon, how is that any better than mine?”

“Cause it’s actually funny! Can’t help that I’m such a natural-born comic.”

“That is such a lie. You definitely got that from ‘No Pun Intended: Volume Too.’ I know your sources, Miller.”

“Fine, fine. You got me there. Guess we'll just have to let Ellie choose the winner.”

You smile at the thought of returning home to her, warmth in your chest melting some of the guilt away as you reach the door. The two of you tumble inside together, giggling away. You toe off your shoes, and Joel watches from the entryway as he unties his boots. Flopping down on the couch next to his daughter, you’re immediately rolling into the story behind the little competition that she’s going to be the judge of. He takes in the sight under the warm lamplight, happiness swelling in his chest as he watches the two people in front of him start to playfully bicker back and forth about the best kind of joke.

It might not be a sheep ranch on the moon, but it’s certainly his dream come true.

taglist: @joelsversion @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @aleatoria2000 @thelightnessofthebeing @mangosandmimosas @runestavia @dianaffddz @beee-haw @bigboiseason123 @xyz32 @mrsvedder12 @tuquoquobrute @moriartyyouwhore @justsumtuffstuff @tryingtonotcryconstantly @alymaliktommo @cambleuu @iwrotethissky @pascalislove @pedr0swh0r3 @agentwhiskeysgf @jenna-ortega @juniperandthornz @wildwollff @pascals-djarin @missfeanor @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lil-stark @gracie7209 @pedrostories @nic0lodean @mymultiveres @v-mack @theelishad @cutie-with-that-booty @danelleee @harriedandharassed @mingiast (tagging some more mutuals, lmk if you want to be removed <3) @johnwatsn @undrthelights @ladamedusoif @pedrit0-pascalit0 @ruinedbylanadelrey @thetriumphantpanda @pedgeitopascal @midnightswithdearkatytspb @dinsdjrn @thepascalofus @pedgito @soaringcloud @somedayauthor @alloftheimagines @pr0ximamidnight

[tremendum]

Mr. Miller's Show

[not my gif]   pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, some use of she/her, use of the words girl/woman)     rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) word count: 7.3k  (back to regularly scheduled programming) requested: yes thank you all for all the patience srsly <3 summary: “'like how sweet you've been t'me, sugar," he mutters gently, head tilting, "why y'gonna go and fuck all that up now?'" warnings: gendered words (girl, woman, etc) allusions to PTSD, porn with feelings, guys theyre like getting healthier, SMUT (PiV unprotected), oral (M receiving), deepthroating, rough sex, face-fucking, shower smut, counter smut, reader is a tease, masturbation (f), marijuana use as always lol, brief voyeurism, canon-typical violence, age gap (undefined but mentioned), ass play (spitting, fingering, only a bit sorryyyy), mirror sex again bc im a whore, reader has hair long enough to grab, hair pulling, lots of choking, spit kink, light slapping (f receiving, consensual), dirty talk, praise kink but also degradation, use of words like slut, brat tamer!joel, overstimulation, MEAN!JOEL YALL, but he has feelings so he’s also kinda soft!dom in this again, once again sooo unedited that it hurts.  notes: finally finally after over a month im back!! hope you enjoy this chapter, ive been having rough writers block with this story so any suggestions and requests are very welcomed!!! thanks for all the love and as always, comments & reblogs w tags are motivation and help out so much!!! love u all <3 also for the taglist, it's too big now and i may consider stopping my taglist, just letting everyone know!!! ill lyk if i do ofc but im reblogging with the list this time.

[this is part six of the Mr Miller series. read previous part sympathy for the devil.  main masterlist here. ]

★  

"you're wearing earrings." 

Joel's voice cuts through the serene chill in the air, shocking you enough to have your head turning away from where you stare ahead - you crane your neck too much, but you can just see the dusted gray and dark of his curls behind you as your brows raise. 

it takes you a second to understand the sentence he's just uttered to you out of nowhere- but you blink to life, clearing your throat as the dead trees pass you by. 

"oh. yeah, it's... they're new. didn't really wear stuff like that until..." you shrug, trailing off as you stare forward yet again. your heart thumps as his chest rumbles against your back - jesus, he's so close to you. it's been weeks since he's been this close, even if this is just work.

your body wants what it wants, you suppose.

your lips purse, lost in the press of his thick body behind you.

"-till?" 

your lip twitches in a smile for a split moment; he's waiting for you to finish your sentence. as if he cares.

Joel... 

he's been so normal recently. or as normal as you could ever imagine Joel Miller to be; full sentence-conversations full of questions, full sentences, and even an occasional joke or dry line littered in with his glares and eye-rolls. he's even taught you and ellie to woodwork, nodded in hello when you picked up Ellie on your way into town - hell, he'd actually gotten a drink with you after patrol a few days ago and held eye contact for a whole thirty minutes.

a fucking miracle.

and even, on rare occasions, you are rewarded with that mind-splitting, earth-shattering smile - a very rare but rewarding sight. the kind that shocks a room, silences you and Ellie both, lights the sun and makes the birds sing. makes your stomach flutter.

so perhaps things have changed. 

it makes you almost laugh to yourself, recalling that day so many moons ago when you had walked into the Bison and first stared into those stony eyes; how big his calloused hands were, the way his lip lifted in distaste at your crass words. 

the sway of the horse makes your hips move gently; your ass is starting to feel sore at the constant motion and as you rock forward with the decline of the hill, you feel Joel's body slide slightly as though he tries against everything to press fully against you. even though you wish he would. 

heat paints your face as you feel his breath on your neck, waiting patiently for you to finish your sentence.

your sharp breath exhales as you realize you've hesitated at his questioning, a bit too long - you smile sheepishly, shrugging. "-sorry, didn't..." you clear your throat, "couldn't remember the last time I wore earrings. not that it matters, but I just..." you thumb the makeshift earring back, grinning to the mane of the horse as he trudges you and Joel both along. 

"-it feels nice. makes me feel like myself." you finish, shrugging awkwardly. 

for all of the steps Joel has taken in the last few weeks to change, there are some things you still have a hard time with.

talking about yourselves and opening up is a very large, unmovable hurdle that you and him are still clearly trying to pull yourselves over. it's quiet for a second as your words seep into the dead surroundings, less than an hour from town. 

"look nice." he grunts quietly, his arms pressing slightly from where he straddles the saddle behind your frame. 

your eyes widen at the seemingly random compliment, face flooding with flattery and embarrassment. your grin betrays you, but you don't dare stutter out a broken thank you for fear that you will sound like a croaking frog; instead, you purse your lips over the giddy grin that spreads over your cheeks and hope that as he stares at the profile of your face, he can see the flattery written across your features. 

"Ellie has a matching pair." you say instead, sparing a quick glance back at Joel. his brows raise, jaw ticking as he takes in the information - your voices both echo at the same time as you speak over each other suddenly: 

"she doesn't have her ears pierced."  "in case she ever gets them pierced." 

you let out a short huff of laughter, nodding sheepishly at having accidentally interrupted each other; Joel shakes his head with a ghost of a smile. 

"got it." he nods, "s'real nice of you." he nods, "making a pair for her, too." 

his chest is right on you - broad, warm through all the layers, and smelling of pine, whiskey, sage. amber. it's intoxicating as his drawl rumbles in the back of your ear - you silently thank Tommy or whoever the hell it was who ordered half the horses to rest after a bout of sickness spread through the stable; sharing a horse has never once before today seemed like a good idea. 

but the good idea sours quickly when you kick speed slightly, the horse leaping over a small creek as your hips shift back into Joel's and your ass presses into him. 

your mouth dries as you shakily exhale; he's so close to you - smells so good. your hands grip the reigns tighter and you nearly jump when a large, calloused hand falls onto your hips to steady you after the change in pace. 

your mind travels back to that morning after you'd stayed with Joel in his own bed - how gentle his hands had been as he'd guided you towards your own house under the early morning sunrise; your eyes bleary with sleep but his smile still cracking bashfully when you'd kissed his cheek, muttering about how maybe Ellie'd missed your boots by the front door when she'd come home. 

she and Joel certainly haven't said anything you if she did notice, anyways. 

you clear your throat, ignoring the searing desire that spirals from where his hand touches your clothed hip; you shrug, "she said she liked mine, so I figured we could match." 

he hums lowly at your word, his nose brushing slightly over the crown of your head. shivers roll over your shoulders as you swallow, retreating into the silence that you've lived in for the last few weeks since the two of you were put back on patrol. 

but you stiffen when a hand runs down your side, over the jagged stitching of your jacket, and you suck in a sharp inhale. his other hand slides forward, hooking gently around your hip, fingers splaying over the very top of your thigh and your throat dries up; a faint desire awakened and soon screaming at you. you squirm under his touch.

Joel's hips adjust behind you gently in the next second, your eyes fluttering shut as you imagine him pulling you into him, his hard cock sliding between the round globes of your ass and through your dripping folds, his hands greedy and hungry; his words sharp, teasing. his touch, sweet. intoxicating- 

your eyes open again and your heart skips a beat, his knees hitting the outside of your thighs. 

christ. your whole body tingles as you shift slightly, rotating your hips as the buck of the horse's cant tilts you further away from the heat of his broad chest. no, you can't stand his teasing - intentional or not, Joel is making you nearly melt in desire.

jesus.

you're barely pulling the horse to the side of the path when, with barely a crane of his neck,  Joel mutters, "the hell are y'doin?" 

you suddenly pull the reins and mutter woah, slipping yourself off of the horse and onto the hard ground with a burning face, your lungs screaming for air as Joel protests. 

"what-" he grunts as he pulls himself down from the stirrups, face etched with irritation and concern at your sudden evacuation, "is there an issue?" 

you can hear the irritation in his voice and you sigh, shaking your head - your heart's thundering, face hot and surely laced with poorly-hid embarrassment. god, what the fuck is wrong with you? there's barely forty minutes back to Jackson, why couldn't you just suck it up for a few more torturous minutes until you could return home to your trusty drawer and hot shower? 

"no." you snap, "no problem, Joel." your heart is thundering with surprise at his concern, eyes glaring daggers at him before shooting down towards the heat that nearly blisters on your forearm; his hand, warm and gentle, asking silently if you're okay. your eyes soften before you can school your expression - he reads you, as always, like his favorite novel. 

his hand falls away gently, grazing your finger tips like the gentlest breeze on your face and it still surprises you. 

"alright," he says softly, eyes searching your flustered appearance. "can we get back on the horse, then?" he asks - his voice is surprisingly patient, though his eyes are wary. irritated, but concerned. 

you clear your throat, unable to contain yourself much longer. "we could- take a break." 

his brows raise, tilting his head, "a break? we're nearly back. s'almost nightfall." 

you shift your weight, avoiding the way his corded arms cross over each other, his frame towering over yours as you dully throb in arousal. 

"you're-" you squeak, shaking your head, "you're fucking crowding me, and I need- fuck-" you groan, "just- just fuck off for a second, Joel." you snap, bursting in frustration, unsure how to just admit you are being driven fucking crazy with lust by his presence. 

his head tilts, "fuck off?" his eyes are darker every second you stand, facing each other- "the hell's gotten into you?" he sounds offended, and your heart flips as you feel bad - you're trying, you're trying so hard to be normal around him, as he is with you - so one touch, one innocent adjustment of his hips and now you're freaking out on him again?

you need to get a grip, or at least be honest. 

your face burns as his stern gaze rolls over each curve of your body; "Joel, you're driving me fucking crazy." you snap, glaring at him.

he looks shocked, hands flying out, "I barely said anythin' this whole goddamn day, how the hell am I still fucking this up?" he snaps back, irritated - his eyes incredulous as he stares down at you.

flames lick up your sides as you grind your teeth - his hair looks much more wavy with his curls today, and the green of his jacket it making the golden on his skin nearly glow; you nearly growl as you jump towards him. he's too much. too fucking much.

your hands lock on his shoulders, tugging yourself up towards his face as your lips fall against his. 

the kiss is a shock to you both. 

you're not sure what really compelled you to do it - the stubble over his sharp jaw, his hair, the way his thighs pressed against the outsides of yours just minutes ago, the way he pressed on about the earrings - whatever, it doesn't matter, because he's kissing you back and you're melting like butter over a campfire. 

his lips press hard back against yours through his shocked inhale, surging against you in a dizzying haze of Joel.

but the kiss is seared away from your lips when Joel suddenly shoots his thick hand out, rising to grip hard at your throat, shoving you backwards. 

it's more shocking than the sudden kiss - the speed in which he pulls back and pushes you hard backwards by his warm grip, causing flutters of arousal to course through your stomach.

you stumble in shock but he keeps his hold on you, passionate as he movers the two of you back. you're torn away from his warmth as he presses you with one hand on the small of your back and the other on the beating pulse of your throat - right against a tree, nudging you as he tilts his head down to your height once more. 

he's back on you in no less than a split second; his heat swirling around the cold air, teeth nipping at your lip when you take a moment longer than he'd like to open your lips to his tongue. he groans against you, a warm and deep thing that you feel in your own chest as your hand slides up to his hair, tugging at the base of his neck. 

the fingers around your throat flex and tighten in reaction to your own grip and the moan that rips from your throat sends his hips in a slow thrust against yours. 

you've been desperate for his touch for fucking days - he's been walking on eggshells even after you'd spent the night with him a few weeks ago. he'd barely touched you, taking his time trying to make up for all the lost time you'd spent trying to rip each other's heads off instead of your clothes.

and sure, you don't know who you are with him still - nothing defined, and a lot of things still unspoken - but for the first time since this whole mess started, that doesn't bother you. there's not much anger, nor jealousy - just... Joel. and you. 

it's not bad. 

his lips leave yours as he breathes against your lips, "like how sweet you've been t'me, sugar," he mutters gently, head tilting, "why y'gonna go and fuck all that up now?" 

his hand slips from your back lower, tugging you against his semi-hard cock as his fingers squeeze your ass. his hand lies just below your jugular, thumb soothing over your cold skin as his dark eyes glint with desire. you feel a rush of arousal pool between your legs as you raise your brows. 

"-you need to stop fucking touching me like that when we're riding, Miller." you growl against his lips, staring back at him. you lean slightly to catch his lips with yours once again but he pulls back with a strong hand against your neck to stop you - teasing.

he tuts, "you need to learn how to use your words, sweetheart." he growls against you, teeth catching on your bottom lip.

you whimper at the sharp sting, chasing him as if you could steal a kiss. he tilts his head just out of reach, his hand pressing against you until your breath comes out slightly ragged; your pussy flutters as he squeezes, knee sliding against your clothed core. 

"if you want it, ask for it, baby." he all but demands, hands rough against you, "can't just throw a fit every time you're aching for my cock, or else you'll be whinin' all goddamn day. how am I supposed to know-" 

but there's a snap of a twig somewhere behind you and you both spring apart, straight as boards, hackles raised.

it's almost like deja-vu as you're both thrown from your stupor - ripping away, your voices cease as your hand flies to your hunting knife - in your peripheral, you see that Joel's slung around his rifle so quick you're almost impressed as you both stare to your left. 

christ - just the fucking horse, tied to the tree. stepped on a twig. 

you let out a shaky breath, hand falling onto Joel's chest as you almost wheeze out a relieved laugh. but your hand feels it, suddenly - you notice how stiff Joel is, even after you've both realized there's no threats. 

his heart, thundering in his chest wildly. like a caged animal surrounded by a pack of wild, ravenous wolves; Joel's heart tries to scramble right out of his chest and onto the dead ground. 

that feeling - the one that creeps around at night when you wake up with memories of that cabin, of those raiders - of your past, visions of Joel, surrounded by red. that feeling that creeps up, squeezing at your throat and banging on your chest.

he's feeling it, too.

it's not from arousal, though you can see enough of that in his eyes, in the way his lips part and ragged breaths puff into the air - no, not arousal. 

fear. 

your heart hammers similarly, you suddenly notice. your hand shakes as it hovers near your knife; his hands grip the rifle so tight the blood may burst forth from the roughened skin any second. 

"hey," you whisper, suddenly worried to speak above any quiet noise. his eyes are sharp and his jaw clenched as he looks back at you, wild and alarmed. 

as if he were ready to fight for his life and yours. 

"let's go home," you whisper, thumb running over the shoulder of his jacket, muscles strained and still below the layers.

he snaps out of it, eyes falling to rake over you as if assuring that you're still in front of him in one piece. his hand finds yours on his chest, sliding it off - not unkindly; his hand squeezes yours before boosting you up onto the double saddle silently. 

Joel insists on walking you back to your house; he's brooding, as normal, as you both trudge back from turning in your patrol log and tracking the mud from the stable through the quiet streets.

you don't speak about what happened in the woods - the kiss, nor the twig snapping, but you ache and as you walk, every brush of the backs of your hands send shooting sparks up your arm.

"damn it," he grunts under his breath as you lead him up your driveway. you lift a brow at him, silent prompt to explain his expletive. 

he shakes his head, "s'nothin'. forgot Ellie said the water heater ain't workin', said she was stayin' with her friend Dina till I fix it. cold shower for me tonight." 

you grimace; the air nips at your cheeks, you can't imagine a cold shower in this weather. you shrug, "use mine." you suggest, tilting your head. "no point in turning into an icicle, Miller, you're cold enough as is." you tease, sending him a small wink.

something in you wonders if the shower really is broken, or if he just can't bring himself to ask; not that you can blame him. you can't bring yourself to ask, either.

your heart flutters when Joel rolls his eyes but still trudges after you, through the entrance of your home. his eyes look just as tired as you feel but there's a spark to them, one that coaxes more warmth between your thighs.

you see his eyes catch on the partially-smoked joint put out on the ashtray on your kitchen table as you slide past it; you have a mind to grab it before you make your way up the stairs, pretending not to feel too hot when you feel Joel's eyes graze over the sway of your hips. 

he showers first, you insist. 

while he does so, you strip out of your clothes and into a more comfortable sleeping shirt and shorts. you sit, smoking lazily on the joint, savoring the sharp herbal taste as it flows into your blood and trying to ignore the throbbing desire when the sound of the shower shuts off. 

Joel's respectful when he leaves your bathroom, pants on and shirt tugged over his chest, speckled with dots of moisture. his hair is much darker and more curled just after a shower; you're transfixed as you stand in front of him, joint smoldering between your lips, an exhale of smoke swirling lazily from your nostrils. 

"may I?" he asks suddenly, causing you to nod, pulling the joint out from your lips and noting how his own dark eyes follow it like a horse to a carrot; you smirk, tutting. "and to think, all this time you've been judging me for it?" you shake your head. "shame on you."

his jaw ticks and you just smirk, shaking your head as you hold the joint up to his lips boldly. "you're a bad influence on me, aren't you, Mr. Miller?" you ask, voice sultry as you peer up at him through your lashes. his eyes flick to yours as he inhales, your fingers ghosting over his plush lips. the ones you kissed not an hour earlier.

the air is thick in your room, steam from the hot water creeping through as Joel inhales the weed, ember lighting up your eyes in his. you leave the joint between his parted lips, opting to strip down as you walk towards the shower, hoping Joel had the mind to watch as you go. 

your heart thuds in arousal and excitement when you hear his sharp exhale, still refusing to turn around as you leave the door slightly open once again. you and your innocent habit of leaving the bathroom door open when you shower.  

you're relieved there's some fog over the glass door of the shower, but you take your time cleansing your hair, running soap over your face and then slowly, slowly lathering up your skin. 

you can feel him watch the entire time.

his eyes are like a hawk's; you can see his shadow through the light of the bathroom, the ember of your joint glowing occasionally as your hands run over the wet planes of your skin.

your shaky fingers cascade down, over the skin of your stomach, lower until they just barely graze where you ache. it's like he's been waiting for you to finally start to touch yourself; just as your fingers find your slit, the amber of the joint is tamped, ashed on the windowsill. 

you hum lowly as your fingers swirl through your velvet folds, so wet you're dripping onto your upper thighs as your head thumps against the wall.

"Joel," you let yourself whimper, eyes fluttering shut before opening again languidly. 

Joel's footsteps are gentle as he slowly strides up to you; he lasted, admittedly, longer than you through this torturous game. through the glass, you see his tall frame and your legs quiver with desire - your aching cunt throbs as you move your hand over yourself, rinsing off the rest of the suds from your clean body as your fingers tease your bundle of nerves. your hips jolt; a choked moan from you as you slide the glass open slightly, cocking your head - "it's a shame you already showered," you mutter, fingers not ceasing as Joel's eyes rake over your naked for ravenously. 

he leans on the doorframe to the bathroom, eyes stern as he takes in your silhouette through the fogged glass, slowly rolling over the curves of your body to meet your eyes with flames alit in his own. 

"-it'd be nice to have some help." you shrug, gesturing to the bar of soap in your spare hand, eyes swimming with desire as your other hand continues the slow, torturous movements on your aching clit.

your eyes catch on his crotch; through the jeans, his cock is hard and straining already as if being stirred by just the sight of you, naked and whimpering for him in your shower. 

"I know you've always liked a show, though, haven't you?" you tease, lifting a brow as you recall the night Joel'd first seen you shower.

his jaw ticks at your words but it's like something in his snaps; he wastes little time ripping his shirt off, his patience clearly gone as you bite your lip, stepping back for him as his jeans finally slide off. 

his glowing, naked form crowds into your own as he slides into the shower with you. his eyes are sharp as his hand takes the soap from you; yet instead of running it over your skin like you'd hoped he would, he's tossing it to the side until it hits the wall of the shower and splinters into two. 

you gasp slightly as his hand grips your neck, tugging you close. his cock is hard, tip glistening with beads of precum already as he presses to your lower stomach, his body glued to yours; his nose slides along the plane of your collarbone gently, the shower water pelting rolling off your meshed bodies like some sort of sick baptism. 

"you smell clean, darlin'," he mutters against your kin, one hand sliding up to your scalp, threading through your hair. his tongue peeks out to lick a stripe up your throat. "taste clean, too-" 

his hand tightens suddenly, tugging your hair until your head snaps up to him - his eyes are dark, face full of desire. "so why're you pretending you need my help?" 

the condescension in his voice is intoxicating - your legs weaken, hands sliding up onto his hot skin under the water that cascades over him. 

your throat dries as you swallow, eyes wide as a rush of arousal threatens to drip down onto your bare thighs.

his head tilts, "s'because you want to put on a show, 's that it?" he asks, voice condescendingly sweet as he once again tightens his grip. you whimper at the sweet feeling, nodding slightly.

he smiles against your neck before pulling away, "fine. you can give me a show. get on your knees." he hums, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. your head feels dizzy at the words he says and the sweetness of his kiss; the most delicious juxtaposition.

"a show." he chuckles to himself, shaking his head darkly. "gonna make you a goddamn star."  

christ. your cunt squeezes around nothing, aching for him as his hands slide down to your shoulders. you nearly moan as he smirks, water cascading down his broad chest as he pushes you down; you sink to your knees, your wide eyes on his own as you move until you're close to his aching cock. 

he stands, towering above you as the shower head sprays directly onto his back; water runs off the broad expanse of his chest and you follow the droplets as they smooth over his stomach, down over the sprinkling of hair that trails to the base of his dick. you swallow, heart thundering impatiently as you sit on your haunches, waiting anxiously for him to tell you what to do. 

his brows raise, though, flush high on his cheeks from heat - or arousal - as he hums, "well?" 

you blink at him in surprise as he shakes his head down at you, his own hand falling to pump his long cock in languid strokes, the skin so close to you that you can almost feel the heat. if you were to lean out, just a bit, to taste- 

"christ, darlin' do I gotta tell you how to do everything?" he grunts, other hand cupping the back of your head, carding through your wet strands of hair as he tuts, "you were practically beggin' f'me earlier, now you're suddenly shy?" 

your face blooms in heat, "no, sir, I just-" at your words, his eyes fall back and a groan echoes through your bathroom, "-just suck my cock, darlin' c'mon." 

his impatience, desperation sends shivers down your spine and your mouth opens eagerly, tongue flattening as he slaps your tongue gently once, twice- 

you're always surprised by the size of Joel - each time, it catches you off guard; the head of his cock breaches your lips and his pre-cum smears over your tongue; the taste of him has you keening forward, eager to feel him in you, filling you up. 

"there you go, 's much better." he grunts, muttering as one hand slides around to hold your jaw. your eyes flutter up through your lashes and the falling shower water to stare at him, how big he is towering above you. his cock pushes into your warm mouth and you try your best to breathe through your nose, tongue sliding up the vein which reaches up towards his tip. his groan spurs you on and you gently start to bob your head, spit gathering at the sides of your mouth slowly as your knees press against the wet porcelain.

"you feel better like this, baby?" he mutters, your stomach tingling at his words. you can't nod - can't even make a noise as his hips slowly buck into you; you gag slightly and moan around his cock as it pushes to the back of your throat. 

"fuck-" he grunts, one hand leaning forward to place against the wet shower tiles; he's crowding you, now, pressing you into the back of the shower as his body takes the brunt of the water and takes and takes from you. 

anything Joel wants, he can fucking have it. 

"that's it, sweetheart-" he grunts, "fuckin'- take me." 

his hands grip yours, pulling them onto his thighs, muttering gently that if it's too much, you can slap his thigh; you nod, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes as you keen towards him again, hungry to feel him in your throat again. 

your nails dig crescents into the meat of his thighs as he pushes your head right against the wall, fucking into your throat as his head tilts back. "tha's- right, look at you." he grunts, his lips parted as groans fall from his lip. the steam rises like tendrils from hell as you take Joel's length in your mouth, barely able to breathe in the most delicious way as he uses you. your spit trails over your chin and onto your bare chest as you stare up at him. one hand soothes over your forehead, wiping wet strands of hair plastered to your forehead, "you're a fuckin' star, baby." 

you heat at his words, stomach swirling as you shift uncomfortably, cunt puffy and aching for relief. 

your fingers grip onto him as he takes you in the shower, fucking your throat until you're dripping and aching and a writhing mess, his moans echoing around the empty home. 

"water's cold." he grunts, pulling his cock from your lips; you, weakly, chase the heat of him as he leaves your mouth, gasping for air and coughing slightly. 

he shuts off the water, suddenly, and you swallow as he turns back to you, eyes significantly softer than they'd just been; "somethin' wrong?" he teases, a dark smirk on his face as his eyes flicker to where your thighs press together to soothe the ache. 

you grit your teeth, shaking your head, "jus' want you to touch me, sir." you mutter, face burning at the way Joel never ceases to reduce you to a whimpering mess. 

he smiles one of those brilliant, radiant smiles. 

"that's all you had to say, darlin'." he shrugs, "told you, if you just learn to ask for it nicely, I'll give it to you." 

you shiver as you nod, taking his hand as he pulls you up off your sore knees, wrapping a towel around your form gently. he's so- commanding, yet still somehow keeping his kindness that often hides deep beneath his layers. 

you can't tear your eyes away, though - even as Joel starts to walk towards your open bedroom - your hand stops him on his naked shoulder. "will you please fuck me?" you ask, voice stronger than you'd expected it to be.

his eyes flicker with something as he tilts his head, "right here?" he lifts a brow as his hand snaked over your neck to pull you flush against him once again. "y'gonna beg me to fuck you against the sink because you're too desperate for my cock to walk to the bed?" he whispers it into the shell of your ear; a shiver as you whine, eyes blinking up at him, "been waiting all day, Joel, stop fucking teasing me." 

you notice your mistake too late; his jaw tenses as he bites down at the junction of your neck - you let out a sharp, whining moan as his teeth mark a love bite bright and center on your skin. "fuck- fuck, s-sorry, sir." you groan, eyes clenching shut in pleasure as his hands push you into the counter. 

"bet you're fuckin' sorry." he mutters lowly as he pulls away from you, flipping you quick to bend you over the vanity of the sink. you gasp as the cool wet porcelain hits your breasts, your nipples hard and sensitive as a sharp smack lands on your ass. 

"christ," he groans as you bend over, puffy lips soaked and glistening for him, "look at this pretty pussy." 

you move your hips slightly and his hands grip onto your waist - "quit that." he snaps, hands resuming their exploring. he grazes over the backs of your thighs, up the expanse of your spine. 

over your ass, groping and slapping, relishing in your small moans and sharp gasps. "don't move." he orders.

you sigh, head falling onto the sink as you nearly whimper - you're aching, throbbing as Joel teases you - "Joel," you whimper quietly, voice whiny and small. 

"what's wrong, y'tired of being teased?" he asks, voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. your cheeks are hot as you groan, "please, need to feel you inside of me-" 

he hums, smacking the flesh of your ass, "'f I don't warm you up you'll be sore, baby-" he tuts, "y'know I gotta get you ready." 

"I don't care, I can take it- I like it, just-" you stutter, face heated as you nearly scream in frustration, unable to voice how badly you just want him inside of you. 

he likes that - a thumb sliding over your cunt to spread your lips, exposing your pussy and ass to him as he hums. "too fuckin' eager, have to have my cock right now, 's that right?" he shakes his head with a dark smirk, hand teasing over your swollen lips as he nods, "yeah, s'alright, I'll give it to you whenever you ask." 

"thank you," you wheeze, letting out a shaky sigh when Joel leans down, spitting directly onto your asshole, thumb sliding over the tight ring as he hums, "so desperate for me, couldn't even wait 'till we get back to town, could you? had to try an' fuck me right there in the woods." he doesn't wait for you to respond as he spits down again, this time the slick spit sliding down onto your seeping cunt. his hand leaves, replacing with the thick, teasing head of his cock.

you gasp, rising on your toes as the blunt tip of his dick spreads your cunt, teasing your clit before notching at your entrance. "gonna fill up every hole tonight, baby, y'gonna let me?" 

you let out a whine, "fuck, yes, please." you nod, cunt fluttering around the tip of his cock. 

the stretch is painful; you expected it, craved it - you let out an animalistic moan when he slides in a few inches. "oh-" you whimper, legs tensing as Joel kneads the flesh of your ass, pressing his bare chest to your spine as he mouths along the base of your neck, "relax, baby, so fuckin' tight-" he groans as he slides in slowly, "let me in, sweetheart, c'mon-" 

a rush of arousal and he's fully seated within you, the sting of his cock in you subsiding as a growing desire mounts until you can't take it. "move- m-move, now, please." you rush, hips pushing back against Joel's impatiently. 

"shit," Joel hisses as he pulls out of you slightly - a long, thick drag against your velvety cunt and you groan at the sweet bliss of being filled up. you moan as he thrusts forward, tip hitting the perfect spot that already, as his pace builds, has a simmering coil deep within you. 

"thought- thought about it all day," you admit, hands finding purchase on the counter as he starts to fuck into you, your tits sliding as they press against the sink. "on the horse, thought abo-" you moan sharply as his thumb grazes over your asshole, spreading the slick and his spit around the tight ring. "fuck, sir- that feels good." you moan. he groans in response and the words fly from your lips - "you drive me crazy, so big, t-touching me all the time. dream about you filling me up- s-stuffing me full, even out in the woods-" 

your words are too much for Joel, apparently, because his hand slaps over your mouth and his voice whispers, "sh-shut the fuck up, darlin', y'needa be quiet or I'm gonna finish before this even starts." he grunts, hips snapping into yours as he picks up the pace. 

you whimper at his words, arousal gushing from you and coating his cock in your slick; the wet slapping of your bodies echoing through the bathroom. "fuck-" he drags out the word, fingers sliding over your lips to prod at your mouth, "here- suck, darlin' - there you go, good girl, that's right." 

your tongue slides over his fingers, eyes fluttering closed as you feel his thumb breach your tight hole; a sudden rush of pleasure runs through you as it hits you - Joel's everywhere. he's filling you completely - his thumb slowly fucks your tight ring of muscle as his cock spears your cunt; his fingers, pressing down on your tongue as you whimper and moan around him. 

a groan leaves his full lips; "fuck- look at me." he grunts, hand sliding up your throat to pull your jaw towards your reflection. "look at me, baby-" his fingers slide back into your mouth as your eyes meet the fire in his through the mirror. 

"always tell me when you feel like this, 'kay?" he asks, brows stern as he rams his hips into you; his thumb fills you and fucks into you at a slower speed than his cock, sending searing pleasure through your entire body.

your flesh moves at the impact of his hips and you cry out as his cock hits the delicious spot inside you that curls your toes. his thumb slips from your ass and you whimper dejectedly; the full feeling subsiding slightly as his hand grips your tits, pinching your nipple as he hums in your ear.  "don't want my pretty little slut feeling so needy all the time, right?" he mutters, nosing at your hair as he fucks into you with no abandon. your fingers clench to the sides of the sink as you let out a strangled, "yes, sir-" 

"so if you use your words, I'll give you anything you want." he groans, hand smacking your ass as the other squeezes your jaw. you nod, agreeing with his words though his cock has rendered you nearly speechless. he hums in approval before muttering, "now you're goign to play with your clit until you cum." 

you let your eyes roll back at the commanding tone as your hand snakes down to rub tight, blisteringly pleasurable circles over your bundle of nerves.

but it's immediately too much so soon; you're already so close to your orgasm that a jagged gasp falls from your lips, jumping at the feeling.

"no, 's too much," you moan, head falling back as your finger teases your clit, flames of pleasure licking up isnide you.

but Joel smirks, "why're you still doin' it, then?" he teases, cock hitting so deep and bruising that you think you may see stars. 

you moan out, "w-wanna cum, wanna make you happy, Joel." you whimper, completely forgetting to call him sir; but you feel his brows furrow as a moan ripples from his lips - "y'makin' me real happy right now, darlin', look at you. fucked out on this old man's cock, doin' whatever I say, desperate and willing. you're perfect, aren't you?" 

you shiver in pleasure at his praise, fingers shaking as you rub your clit, trying so hard not to ruin your orgasm by cumming too soon. his cock spears into you at a pace that will certainly bruise your hips; your breath is punched out of you, your gasps and moans painting the air.

"say it, baby." he orders, hand stroking your breast a staunch contradiction to his brutal pace. "tell me how perfect you are for me." 

you wail, head falling back onto his broad, thick shoulder as he runs his mouth over your shoulder, nipping as he goes. you're out of breath - "p-perfect, I'm perfect for you Joel, fuck, don't stop. so good, so good-" you mumble, fucked out after only a few minutes. 

he hums, nodding into you. "taught you well, didn't I? you're my perfect little star." 

you nod, "yes, sir, thank you-" you squeal in pleasure as he strokes long and slow, pushing you nearly to the brink as your legs shake. you can't take it, though - your fingers stop their ministrations, shaking and burning as you pull away from your clit, so close from just his cock and-

a slap to your cheek as Joel's lips bite into your jaw, "put your fuckin' hand back right now. you don't stop 'till I tell you to." 

you swallow shakily, shaking your head, "I can't- it's too much, I can't-" 

"fine." he snaps, slapping your cheek again before one hand slips to grip hard at your shoulder, lifting one of your legs up onto the sink; his other hand snakes down to pinch your tortured clit and you scream as he grunts in your ear, "I'll do it myself."

he's unforgiving on your quivering cunt, barely able to stay upright as he pushes you down, your cheeks pressing to the cool counter as he pounds down into you, shooting you into a hurtling race towards your orgasm. 

he brutally fucks into you in a blinding pace. you nearly scream as white-hot pleasure rips through you, your hands falling to the counter as he coaxes a mind-bending orgasm from you. you see white as you cum, pulsing and writhing over his cock as it spears into you, splitting you open. 

"that's it, baby-" he lets out a loud moan, biting into your neck as he continues the brutal pace, "jesus- s'fucking tight, baby, can barely move-" his hands fall to your hips, using you as a fuck toy to finish himself off; you're still writhing with the ecstasy of the orgasm, relishing in the way his hands hold you. 

"where're you gonna take me, baby?" he grunts, voice strained: he's so close. 

you scramble, holding his hips as you nearly pass out - pleasure too much. "cum on my ass, please sir." you mutter, heat licking up your throat as the words come out. 

he moans and pulls out of you suddenly, hand flying from your skin to his cock, a slick noise as he quickly tugs himself until hot spurts of his cum paint the skin of your ass. "pretty girl," he grunts to himself, "an' you're all mine." 

you hum, moaning quietly as his thumb soothes over your skin, spreading his cum over your ass and pressing it slightly against your ass. your cunt flutters in arousal at the action and he hums, "y'like that, don't you, pretty girl?" 

you nod as you let out a shaky sigh and he presses a kiss to your spine, "good." it's a whisper on your skin, a promise. 

he's barely grabbed a towel to wipe his cum off your skin before you're turned around on jelly legs - his strong arms pull you in so fast you barely have a second to straighten out - he's nuzzling into your wet hair in a way that has your heart thumping and your throat dry.

his heart beats against your cheek, body warm, chest heaving along with yours.  

heat, affection - they swirl in your chest as his bare body cradles yours. intimately. 

your sweet skin is sticky with sweat when Joel comes to, out of the bliss of his and your orgasms. 

he's just as sweaty as you, though the clean skin and foggy mirror have started to clear up. Joel nearly huffs a short laugh at the thought of taking yet another shower - christ knows the two of you are once again filthy - but he kind of likes it, in a way. a secret. 

he brushes it off when he feels your fingers curl around his arm; he had barely noticed that he'd tugged you upright and right into his chest, holding you as tight as he could. for some reason, his mind reaches back to earlier in the evening, when he'd heard that branch - the fear, the panic that'd risen in him. he's not sure why, or at least, he won't think about it. you hadn't mentioned it, but he'd seen your hands shake and your eyes cloud with fear.

something for another time, because he has you warm and pliant and naked in his arms. he barely noticed how his lips press at your hairline; it's just... well, feels natural.

like you both need it. 

"stay here, please." you ask meekly, quietly. the first words spoken in a minute; you're swallowing around the nerves and anxiety that crawl in your chest, he can tell. he feels them, too. 

he's taken aback as he stares at you - you both have patrol again in the morning, is it not... aren't you going to get tired of him?

won't you find him annoying, or gross in the morning when he inevitably pulls you closer in his sleep, when the dreams are too real and he shoots up in bed?

the panic subsides as he stares into your warm eyes, hopeful, bashful. he smiles gently, biting through the smile in embarrassment at how willing he is to stay. he'd stay forever if you asked.

Joel nods through his surprise, though, his body and heart and head aching to lie with you once again, to feel the calmest sleep he's had in years. 

"course, darlin', I'll..." he pulls you in closer, so he doesn't have to look at those damn eyes when he finally admits it -

"I'll stay as long as you want." 

feedback welcome as always :') <3

[vorelover23]

Missed Potential 😔

I’m still so upset that Street Fighter 5 gave us Necalli, this hot ass muscle man, who’s gimmick was literally Vore, and they proceeded to do nothing with that, both narratively and gameplay wise.

Like, I mean, yes we got that hot moment where he eats Akuma and gets a huge stomach on top of his muscles, before Akuma escapes (wish someone made an animated version of this or a live action recreation so badly), and don’t get me wrong, as a Vore moment in any media period, I think it’s one of the hottest ones, (I’m actually a big fan of the “be careful what you eat” Vore trope, of any over confident pred eating someone he perceives to not be a threat or problem, only for that to be their undoing, so Necalli this young hot muscle dude eating goddamn Akuma of all people, feeling all confident at first but noticing something not right, only to start gagging and throwing up, just to suddenly feel something going on in his stomach before he explodes from akuma’s wrath? Yeah I liked that lol) and incredibly underrated, but that was at the very end of his story. His gimmick is eating people and he never really did that or imposed a threat.

Imo, in the story, (*spoilers*) it would have been both a great narrative point, and hot, had Necalli, who’d been failing up to that point, at the end during the final segment, instead of us fighting M. bison again, for the 100th time, Necalli actually consumes Bison to everyone’s shock and surprise, and is the final boss/bad guy of the story. Perhaps as a story exclusive boss in this form “big belly Necalli” lol. Of course plot things after the fight would happen, and Bison would either escape Necalli’s stomach on his own, or Ryu or some other character would use their power to help him escape, but man, that would have been so awesome and a good use of the new at the time villain… (if anyone would like to do a alternate fan story retelling for SF5 and wants to do this, I think I’d love you, just sayin lol 👀)

Also, like, gameplay wise, he should have leaned more into the eating people aspect somehow. Like imagine one of his moves being what we see with akuma, where he grabs the person, consumes them and gets a big stomach for a bit before having to release the opponent. Or maybe that’s an ultimate finisher move! Gah, so much missed potential *sigh* and likely won’t be brought back in SF6 or any future titles given his poor reception. Idk I’m rambling lol

[mothwithapencil]

your street fighter art has brought me much joy...thank you ^_^ i wasnt too familiar w vega b4hand but. he's got me in his claws now... i'm seeing the vision....i would like to hear more of what u've concocted for his siblinghood w cammy if you would like 2 share! what the dynamic could be like when cammy was still a doll under shadaloo, vs when she started fighting bison, etcetc. the silly the serious how things change over the years >:0 apologies if this is a tall order

(Also. mike tyson cartoon balrog knocked me back. What are the odds that he, too, has a van with "BI GUY" on the license plate)

I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE A VEGAHEAD NOW.... He got me in his claws as soon as I saw him... The vega army grows stronger...

His siblinghood with Cammy (and also Decapre) is so very special to me. You can check out this post first for some stuff I said about them that I'll extrapolate on here. RAMBLE TIME.

Vega and Cammy are very similar and share several traits and I think a lot of it has to do with him having to train and take care of her and the other Dolls. It makes me so very insane that Vega is generally portrayed as this cold and uncaring murder guy who only loves himself, and yet...

Please look at these dialogues from Alpha 3. HE CARES ABOUT HER SO MUCH. IT HURTS. There's so much here. He wants her to be safe. He cares about the girl he took care of so much that he calls M. BISON A COWARD. Bison could kill Vega by looking at him and yet he stands up to him for the sake of someone else's safety. I rambled about their relationship and his feelings towards her more in a text to my gf I'm too lazy to rewrite:

Btw yes I am making a drawing about the braids. They hold so much symbolism TO ME. The braids he did for her... One of the few remaining things connecting them.... It means a lot to him, and you can see how much it means to him in A Shadow Falls:

While she's passed out he just stops to pick up one of her braids and his eyes immediately soften. And then he leaves without really doing anything because he sees that Cammy wants to protect Decapre, who she knows is her sister. He doesn't try to kill Cammy or anyone she loves. Every time he fights her he just sees her as a worthy foe (in the Alpha 3 dialogue up there he later changes his mind about Cammy not being a good opponent as he rescues her from the Shadaloo base). And later in A Shadow Falls when Cammy and Decapre are fighting the other Dolls, he goes against Shadaloo's ideals and frees the Dolls from the Psycho Power controlling them. At the end of the story he throws away his mask. Vega is not heartless... He has kindness and compassion... He has sweetie powers.... He just doesn't want you to know that because he hasn't been allowed to have emotions for so long... He's just stuck working for people he hates. Every time Bison isn't a direct threat to him he just goes back to Bullfighting. He doesn't care about those guys at all and the only thing truly keeping him is probably the fact Bison or another Shadaloo member would show up at his home and kill him if he quit. I think he wishes he could have the same freedom Cammy has... He's proud of her for breaking the cycle of being used as a tool by Bison and wishes he could be afforded the same luxury...

They all even pose the same way... There's a couple pieces of art where theyre posing this way and they share some similar moves too.... The parallels... They compel me....

I don't know if Cammy will ever piece together that Vega is her weird questionably evil possibly clone-related big brother. Decapre is much more similar to him visually and maybe that will tip her off. But for now all of her past growing up in House of Bison is known only to Vega and the fleeting memories kill him every day. He may feel particularly closer to Cammy but he stills shows care and compassion for Decapre too. He loves his sisters so very much and thus....

SOMETIMES A FAMILY IS WHATEVER THIS IS ↓↓↓ ‼️‼️

ITS SO HARD BEING A SINGLE MOM WHEN YOURE AN ASSASSIN FOR SHADALOO AND ALSO A GROWN MAN💯💯

(Also, for the last portion of that ask: I do think Balrog has a "BI GUY" vanity plate. Beef IS Gross, Unethical, and Yucky. That IS what he reads when he sees it. He DOES look at the bi men checking him out and say "we like to put the same thing in our mouth!" Its true. I saw it happen. Lmfao)

[capypub]

Without Warning - Mafia!Joel Miller Scene 14

Mafia!Joel Miller x OFC

Rating: M (little smut, little violence, little gore, all happy endings though)

Summary: Joel takes care of his biggest problem and then starts a new chapter in his life.

AN: Epilogue anyone??

Masterlist

(This gif has nothing to do with the chapter, I just really love his expression lmao)

The door to the garage burst open late the following evening. There was enough yelling and noise to bring Indi out of the living space that Joel had converted into a library of sorts. She recognized the voices, most familiar to her now after living with Joel for this long. Going through the kitchen, she found drops of blood leading from the garage to the basement door. It was slightly ajar and she could faintly hear what sounded like chains rattling and struggling. 

Joel had tried to keep her out of the “David job” as much as possible besides his show of power at the Bison. He left that afternoon with promises to be back soon, instructing her not to leave the house. Tommy came up the stairs, startling her as she lingered by the open door. He had a few streaks of grime on him, some blood on his shirt, but seemed to have no injuries of his own.

“Hey there, darlin’,” he greeted her, approaching her like one might approach a skittish animal.

“How, um…how’d it go?”

He shoved his hands in his pocket, closing the door and blocking it with his body. “Good. We got ‘m.” 

“Oh…good.” 

She didn’t know why she was being so awkward. At the same time, Tommy also seemed to be walking on eggshells with her. He shifted his weight from foot to foot anxiously, watching her closely. 

“Is Joel…um,” she nodded towards the door.

He seemed to hesitate. “Uh, yeah, he’s-he’s downstairs.” 

A sudden gunshot startled them both. It was followed by a loud cry, a man’s cry. They made eye contact. She glanced at the doorknob, Tommy subtly shaking his head, already seeing the cogs turning in her brain.

“I shou-.”

He grabbed the doorknob with one hand, her outreached wrist in the other. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart. You really shouldn’t be down there right now, it’s ‘bout to get real ugly,” he tried to warn her, his eyes pleading that she turn around and go upstairs. 

Another cry from downstairs. “Tommy, I have to know,” she tried to insist. 

“I don’t think you should see Joel like this,” he said quickly, getting her to pause.

“Like what?” she questioned, but accepted his knowing look with one of her own. 

Another scream of anguish. 

“I love him, Tommy, whatever’s going on down there is part of him and I can handle it,” she said. 

He stared at her for a long minute, slightly flinching at another scream echoing up the stairs. It’s not that she couldn’t handle it, it’s that he didn’t want her to have to handle it. Tommy internally battled with himself. It was the ugliest side to this job, hurting people, and she didn’t need that on her conscience like the rest of them. Ultimately, he let her go and stepped aside with a sigh, knowing he couldn’t control her. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly, slowly opening the door and making her way downstairs, leaving Tommy to shut it behind her.

The scene at the bottom of the staircase was darker than she could even imagine. Blood was splattered all over the floor. Joel’s main team of men lingering on the edges of the room, hands behind their back as they all stared at the scene in the middle. 

“You fuckin’ think I wouldn’t come for you after what you did you piece of shit,” Joel snarled, crouched over David who looked half-alive.

He was tied to a chair, covered in blood and sweat, missing teeth and fingernails, it seemed. It looked like he also had a gunshot wound through his knee. She had to swallow some of the nausea down from the smell alone, heavy iron, metal and piss. Joel looked much calmer than he sounded, jacket discarded on a chair nearby with the sleeves of his shirt bunched up around his elbow. 

“Where should we start, huh, David?” he asked, now eerily calm as he dragged a blade across the other man’s bloody face, “Should I skin you ‘live or castrate you first?” he questioned, the other man starting to jerk and grunt in an attempt to get free. 

“Boss,” Eric said from across the room, nodding to Indi when Joel looked up. 

He must not have heard her coming down the stairs. His expression changed as he stood straight, dropping the knife on the ground as he approached her. He didn’t touch her, hands covered in blood and gunshot residue.

“Go upstairs, baby, I’ll be done soon,” he said, using his much larger body to block the horrific scene.

“I want to stay,” she insisted softly, looking captivated by the smears of blood and the cuts on his face. 

“No. Go upstairs.” 

“Please,” she said, grabbing his arm, unbothered by the sweat coating his skin, “I need to see you do it,” she added, her voice quivering. 

He stared down at her for a long time, conflicted about her request. She always thought he was joking when he’d say he could never deny her, but it was true. If she wanted to burn the world down, he’d light the flame. If she wanted to watch her kidnapper die, who was he to refuse whatever fucked up sort of closure she would eventually call this. 

“Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll even give you a front row seat, baby girl,” he added, taking her hand and leading her to the chair where his jacket was lying, allowing her to sit by the table of his tools with the thick coat wrapped around her. 

David made a noise from where he was tied, spitting blood onto the ground at Joel’s feet. Joel’s demeanor shifted again when his attention returned to the man who had hurt his love. 

“Come to watch the show, gorgeous?” he gurgled around a mouthful of blood, eyes unfocussed as he rolled his head in her direction.

“You don’t fuckin’ look at her,” Joel snapped, yanking the man’s head back by his hair. 

And watch the show she did. She sat in silence as Joel did awful things to her captor, breaking bones, pulling more teeth and fingernails,  prodding him with various tools, it was terrifying, it was disgusting, it was…thrilling. 

She knew she should probably talk to someone about the reaction she was having to her boyfriend absolutely destroying a man in the slowest and most painful ways for her. She shouldn’t be feeling some of the things she was feeling, specifically the pride, the fascination, the lust, but she couldn’t help it. 

When it was done and there was barely a dead body left, she took Joel upstairs and ravished him like an animal in the shower, the blood and grime of today’s events dripping down both of them under the hot stream.

“You’re somethin’ else, darlin’,” Joel said with a  tired smile and a shake of his head after she’d explained her sudden burst of primal desire to him, both utterly spent and sexually satisifed. 

“You love it.”

“Hell yeah I do,” he agreed, pulling her close, all soft touches and gentle kisses after they’d washed away the last of their problem. 

“You know you’ve ruined any other future man for me, right?” she asked, swinging her legs over to sit on his lap, lightly scratching down his chest. “You’ve set the bar impossibly high, Joel Miller.”

“Ain’t gonna be ‘nother man, sweetheart,” he said, closing his eyes, relaxing from her touch.

“Yeah?”

“You’re mine forever, baby girl,” he growled, his tone laced with just enough possessiveness to have her squirming.

“Sounds like you’re making a proposal,” she joked, rocking back into his lap, addicted to how right it felt to have his half-hard cock rubbing her covered clit. 

“That what you want, baby?” he asked, one large hand gripping her hip and guiding her movements, “Want a ring on that finger? Be my little wife?” 

She moaned softly at his words, her movements increasing. “Y-yeah.”

He hummed, the rumble vibrating in his chest under her fingertips. “I’ll get you a ring, baby, biggest fuckin’ diamond I can find if that’s what you want,” he grunted, thrusting up suddenly, feeling her nails sink into his abdomen as she tried to maintain balance. 

“Fuck, Joel,” she whined. 

He turned them over, pinning her to the bed and grinding into her panties, hearing her breathy pleas in his ear. They moved quickly this time, both desperate for a final release. Joel’s thrusts were hard once they discarded their clothes, his grip on her body even rougher as he grunted against her neck. 

She was moaning so sweetly in his ear, panting and telling him how good he felt, how good he fucked her. Those words had his eyes rolling into the back of his head, so perfectly sweet and erotic. 

“You wanna come, baby? Gonna make a mess on my cock?” he asked, one hand on her throat, but not squeezing.

“Y-yes, ah, please, Joel, I’m…so close,” she cried, her body practically vibrating with the tension of her oncoming release.

“Come on then, baby, be my good girl and come all over me,” he growled.

Her fluttering walls triggered his own climax almost immediately after, his release shot across her stomach and thighs. He whispered soft praises as he cleaned his spend off her, leaving soft kisses along her cheek and forehead. He made sure they both drank water before settling down to actually go to sleep this time. She was already passed out by the time he switched his bedside light off, pulling her close as they laid on their sides. 

When she woke up the next day, there was a box sitting on her bedside table, small and a dark blue velvet shade. Joel came out from the bathroom, wiping excess shaving cream off his neck with a towel. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” he greeted her, sitting on her bedside, taking the box and holding it in his giant hands. 

“Joel?” she questioned, “What is that?”

He smiled, rolling the box between his hands before finally opening it. “This is me askin’ you to marry me,” he said, slipping down onto one knee.

“Joel,” she gasped softly, a million questions running through her mind in a matter of ten seconds. 

“Be my girl forever, darlin’?” he asked, his stomach in knots as he waited, her expression hard to read past the obvious surprise. 

“Yeah…yes, yes, of course,” she said finally, smiling brightly as he stood up with only a faint knee pop before crawling over her. 

“Yeah?” he asked, kissing up her neck.

“Yes, Joel!,” she nodded, her hands wandering his back and shoulders.

“Fuck,” he groaned, inhaling her scent, “I love you.”

“I love you too…will you let me show you how much?” she murmured against his mouth, grinning slyly.

“You know I can’t say no to you…”

Epilogue

[thewriteroflucifenia]

Ideas from the Fanfiction Nursery

The Domestic Battles of Juri Han

Juri dealing with domestic bullshit in the most chaotic way possible.

Set in the same continuity of The Spider and the Bee, but during her relationship with Crimson Viper.

Juri Fights the HOA - Crimson's neighborhood has a really shitty HOA and Juri decides to fight the power by throwing a massive party where she and the other fed up neighbors rev their engines, play loud music, and paint their fences garish colors. She also vandalizes the HOA leader's fence and car, giving them pink and blue cheetah print. This all started because they started giving them fines over the pride flag on the porch, then Juri's bike, then the trash, then the length of the grass, and Juri isn't patient enough for malicious compliance.

Juri Fights the School Board - Juri doesn't approve of the School Board's ruling on local book bans and decides to be a menace about it.

Juri Fights River Creek Methodist Church- Crimson is trying to kiss up to her boss by going to the same church as him, and it would really help if Lauren would get baptized for her, but Lauren gets cold feet so Juri decides to step in and pretend to have a religious epiphany for the sake of her girlfriend's promotion. The baptism is held in the pool of a neighborhood full of mansions and is decorated with fancy statues and waterfalls. The line "Lauren, Mommy needs you to suck it up, talk about Jesus, and go get dunked in that bougie pool by the preacher" gets said.

Juri Fights the County

Juri Fights the Manager of a Local Hardware Store

Working Title - Why you shouldn't kidnap Cammy's family members

Set before SF2 when Cammy's 18. She's living with her new, adoptive family, got literally no idea where she spawned from other than vaguely in Eastern Europe, and she's just kinda training for her career working for her adoptive father.

She and George are stuck slumming it at the house while everyone else is on a mission they ain't qualified for.

Cammy's bummed her family is away during the anniversary of her adoption, with the exception of George Ginzu, who's like "we should go do something fun in town"

Famous last words, he gets abducted by Shadaloo. Cammy's fucking pissed.

She's playing Rambo now. She tracks their asses down to break out her little brother and give everyone hell.

The Dolls recognize her and become horrified that she's alive, but not responding to her own name or recognizing them. It's like she's been brainwashed or something!

Juri is mad Akuma gets to Bison before she does, proceeds to sulk all the way to SF4.

Rather depressing oneshot about Decapre mourning Cammy after her "death" between Alpha 3 and SF2.

I kinda just want an excuse to write backstories I came up with for minor characters like the Dolls, Lauren, and Delta Red.

Why Marz was so willing to yeet herself to death

She fell in love with Rashid's friend, friend got the ax, now she's decided to be a Sister Repentia and just fucking die.

Rashid's friend is rewritten to be his sister

She and Marz were both massive Warhammer nerds and decide they'll meet again in space.

Marz imagines herself and all her loved ones as Sisters of Battle and Space Marines watching the Imperium crumble before she flatlines and she smiles.

Fuck yeah, she gonna play Orks in the next life.

Lauren and Li-Fen Try Wrestling

These two rascals hunt down Poison and try to pitch themselves as wrestlers

It's a weirdly dramatic plotline

Li-Fen's character is a pirate who's parents were brutally slaughtered by Lauren's character so she turned to piracy and stock market fraud to fill the void. She's hellbent on revenge until she realizes Lauren's character is kinda hot.

Lauren's character is a super soldier with cat ears that is totally not her GI Joe oc. She works for totally not Cobra but secretly thinks clubbing baby seals kinda sucks, but they match five percent to her 401k so she's stuck morality be damned.

Their characters are in a situationship and most of their wrestling is the girls waxing poetically on the meaning of life and love while body slamming each other.

They're just larping at poor Poison who can't find a way to leave discreetly, she's just trapped with these hyper teenagers who really want to tell her all about their OCS.